


That's The Thing About Scandals

by GenerallyDisinterested



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pining, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenerallyDisinterested/pseuds/GenerallyDisinterested
Summary: “I know I said I wanted a big political scandal, but… This wasn’t what I meant.”The four nations determine their leaders with an election. This year, some very crucial information comes out on a very crucial day.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 258





	1. Chapter 1

Sokka was awoken on the morning of the election by his sister. 

Katara, already dressed and bright-eyed, stooped by his bed and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. “Time to get up.” 

Sokka responded by burrowing further under the covers. 

“I made breakfast,” she tried again. Sokka emerged, only slightly. “Dad says she’s going to eat all the bacon if you don’t hurry.” 

Sokka sat up. “I’m coming.” 

When Sokka lumbered downstairs, shirtless with hair falling in his eyes, Katara was pouring batter onto a frying pan and Hakoda had his nose buried in a newspaper. Sokka sat between them and piled a generous amount of warm breakfast food onto the empty plate Katara had set for him. 

“You should be dressed,” she chided, placing a pancake directly from the spatula onto her plate. “Aang is picking us up soon.” 

“He must be in high spirits.” Hakoda flipped a page. “Gyasto is predicted to win the air temple by a landslide.” 

Sokka gratefully accepted the cup of coffee that Katara handed across the table. “I kind of want there to be some big scandal last minute. Y’know, to spice things up.” 

Katara gave her brother a look. “Sokka, this is serious.”

“Relax, none of the races are even close. Gyatso will get the air temple, our man Arnook has basically already won the water tribe—“ 

“Stop,” Katara said. “you’ll jinx it.” 

Sokka threw a piece of egg in the air and caught it in his mouth. “Bumi will win the earth kingdom—“ 

“Sokka!”

“—and Ozai will be firelord.” 

Katara grimaced. “You can jinx that one.” 

Kayota set aside the newspaper. “Well, whatever happens will happen.” It was nicer than saying Ozai will almost certainly win because for some reason that none of the other nations could figure out, the fire nation saw a strong leader, and not a rising dictator, in him. 

The three ate and chatted and ate some more. Sokka went upstairs to get dressed only after some forceful prompts from Katara kicking the backs of his shins until he was in his bedroom. He pulled his hair into his trademark ponytail and tugged a Arnook campaign shirt over his head. He grinned in pride at his reflection. He and his dad had sent in their ballots early. Hopefully, this race would be called while they were at school, so he could begin his gloating. Who he would gloat to he didn’t know, seeing as most of his friends shared his political views, but he would find someone. 

As usual, Sokka heard Aang approaching before he saw him. Appa’s loud grunts bellowed from a block away, and the thump of six enormous paws hitting the driveway made the floor shake. Sokka stepped outside and was ambushed by Momo dressed in a mini Gyasto campaign shirt. Appa had #VOTE spray painted on his side in massive blue letters. 

“With animal friendly spray paint,” Aang made sure to clarify. “We made it out of vegan products at the air temple.”

“You airbenders and your vegan crap,” Toph grumbled from atop the bison. 

Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Aang went to a school that was built almost directly on the point that joined all the territories, making it one of the most diverse schools in the four nations. For bending, that is. Sokka was one of the only non-benders in the school, but that was fine. It made him unique. Plus, he was always featured in the advertising pamphlets. 

Aang landed in front of the school and jumped off Appa in that graceful, airy way he did. Once everyone had demounted, Appa led himself and Momo to the barn behind the building.

Almost immediately, Aang was swarmed with reporters shoving cameras and microphones in his face. “Avatar Aang, have you cast your vote yet?”

“I’m not quite old enough,” Aang answered with a polite smile. “Two more years.” 

“Do you think you should get to vote one in all four nations, since you bend all four elements?”

“That’d be pretty cool, but I’m fine with just voting in the air temple. Also, like I said, I can’t vote yet.” 

“Do you agree that Bumi is too old to serve another term as master?”

“No! Bumi is a great master.” 

As quickly as the reporters had appeared, they vanished, leaving Aang to swarm like moths in front of a sleek black car. Zuko and Azula stepped out, both dressed in matching suits of maroon and orange. They walked past the reporters without so much as a passing glance. 

“Look at those jerks,” Toph said. “I mean, I can’t see them, but I know they look like jerks.” 

They did indeed look like jerks, with their shoulders too upright and their arms glued to their sides. Zuko wasn’t that bad, if you looked past the anger issues and downer attitude. He was fun to mess with. Sokka could get a reaction out of him easier than almost anyone he had met. If he was having a boring day, he could just rip the eraser off the back of his pencil and throw it at Zuko’s head, and the day wouldn’t be boring anymore. Azula, on the other hand, was terrifying. Sokka would only prank her if he developed a death wish. 

“I wonder why Ozai lets them go here.” Katara’s eyes followed the siblings as they ascended the steps and walked inside, letting the door swing closed in the reporters' faces. “He’s made it pretty clear that he only cares for the fire nation.”

“It’s a political stunt,” Sokka said. “Like, ‘Hey guys, look at me, I’m so accepting of other nations that I sent my kids to the most diverse school out there. Now do my bidding.’” 

The reporters returned to try and ask Aang more questions, but Sokka put his hands on his shoulders and guided him past them like a bodyguard. The energy inside of the building was electric. Every student seemed to be talking at once. There was a bakery stand selling cupcakes with the candidates faces on it. Sokka bought one of each candidate, and shoved the entire Ozai cupcake into his mouth at once. 

“Dere,” he said through a mouthful of red velvet crumbs and cream cheese frosting. “‘e’s gone.”

Aang laughed, and Katara cringed. “Close your mouth while you chew.” 

“Can I get a cupcake?” Toph held out a dollar, though she was facing the wrong direction. Sokka guided her to the stand, and she too obliterated the firelord in one bite. 

Zuko was awoken on the morning of the election by his sister. 

Azula switched on the bedroom light and said “Dad wants us downstairs for breakfast.” She had walked away by the time Zuko opened his eyes. He yawned and grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 6:30, about an hour since he had managed to drift towards sleep. The time prior had been spent tossing and turning and sweating a wet patch in the center of his sheet. Ozai was going to win. Everyone was saying it. He would win. But if he didn’t… Ozai didn’t like to lose. It made him angry. Zuko didn’t like Ozai when he was angry. 

Zuko’s suit was hanging in the closet, freshly washed and tailored. He got changed and slipped wordlessly down the stairs to join his sister on the right side of Ozai, who sat at the head of their long rectangular table. On his left was his campaign manager, Zhoa. He jabbered into Ozai’s ear with a cadence much too quick for Zuko to comprehend at this hour. Azula was nibbling on a piece of toast and scrolling through her own instagram pictures. Zuko watched as she did this. There was a picture of her on the back of an eel hound. A picture of her laughing over ice cream with Mai and Ty Lee. A picture of her under the arm of Ozia, with Zuko under his other arm. Each picture was carefully planned and curated, down to the hashtags in the caption. Zuko’s social media accounts were the same. Everything was the same. 

“You haven’t touched your breakfast.” Ozia’s voice ripped Zuko from his thoughts. He did his best not to shudder under the weight of his father’s amber stare. 

“I’m not hungry.” It was the truth. His stomach was stuffed with an anxious knot of nerves that left no room for the slices of buttered toast and mini quiches on his plate.

Ozai’s eyes shifted to Zhoa, who cleared his throat and straightened like an actor following his cue. “Today is an important day for your father, kids. It’s crucial that you both keep up appearances. Be engaged in class, even if your mind is elsewhere. Laugh with your friends, even if you don’t want to see them. Eat, even if you aren’t hungry. We need you to be the happiest, healthiest kids in the four nations. For your father.” 

Ozai returned his gaze to Zuko. Gingerly, he picked up a slice of toast. It turned to ash in his mouth, but he forced himself to swallow. 

The ride to school was silent. Azula scrolled through her phone. Zuko looked out the window. When they got to the school, reporters were asking questions before the driver had opened their door. They walked right through them without a word and headed to class. 

In class, Zuko answered all the questions he could and wrote down everything the teachers put on the blackboard. He followed his script. The morning seemed to drift past him. He was there, but he wasn’t. He could barely name one thing that had happened by the time he sat down in the cafeteria with Azula and Mai and Ty Lee for lunch. 

“Zuko!” Ty Lee cheered, making Mai wince. “Are you excited!?”

“Through the roof.” Zuko looked down at his tray. Watery mashed potatoes and overcooked broccoli and a slab of something that resembled meat. His stomach turned, but with his father’s message ringing in his ears, he ate like the happiest and healthiest kid in the four nations. 

“I’m excited for the party on friday,” Ty Lee crooned. “It was so fun last year!” 

“You’re the only one who thinks it’s fun,” Mai murmured, pushing her broccoli around with a plastic fork. 

Ty Lee pouted. “Am not! It’s a victory party for all four nations. What’s not to love about that?” 

Azula laughed a bit too hard. Her smile didn’t touch her eyes. _Laugh with your friends, even if you don’t want to see them._ “Come now Ty Lee. Remember, Mai hates all things that aren’t the color gray. And all people who aren’t in the fire nation.”

“That’s not true,” Mai countered. “I hate most of the people in the fire nation too.” 

“Well, I think it’s fun.” Ty lee played with her braid. “Last year was fun, anyway. It was in the earth kingdom, right? So it’s at the water tribe this year. I think it’s their turn now, right? Arnook is probably going to win, so it’ll be at his house. He has a really nice house, I’ve seen pictures. It’s almost entirely made of ice, so we should dress warm.”

Zuko let Ty Lee’s voice fade towards the back of his brain. His eyes found their way to the avatar’s table. Aang kept bending the water out of Sokka’s cup every time he tried to take a sip. Katara was laughing and eating a sandwich. Toph had two french fries sticking out of the sides of her mouth like a walrus. They all looked happy, real happy, not politically happy. Maybe they were just better at faking it than Zuko. They would have to be really good at faking it, though. Ozai had always said that the avatar was unnatural, that nobody should be allowed to wield that much power. Zuko didn’t think anyone should be allowed to wield that much happiness. Aang and his friends quite literally laughed their way through life. The nights Zuko and Azula spent watching their father scream at his staff, the avatar and his crew spent watching movies on one of their basement floors. At least, that’s what they claimed. They were probably just as miserable as Zuko. Happiness was probably just a fable he was taught back in his other life, the life he had before his mother left and before Ozai became firelord and before… 

Lunch concluded with a jarring ring of the bell. Zuko stood, discarded his empty tray, and made his way to class. 

That was when everything went to hell. 

Sokka was doodling in the margins of a pop quiz when Aang interrupted his class. He walked in tentatively, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “Erm, sorry, professor, I needed to borrow Sokka for... Avatar stuff.” It was a lie. A really bad one, but because he used the all powerful avatar card, the teacher dismissed Sokka without questions. 

Aang led Sokka out of the building and into the barn, where Appa slept in his enormous stall. Katara and Toph were leaning against him. They moved a significant distance every time Appa’s side heaved in a hearty snore. 

“What’s going on?” Sokka asked, a twinge of excitement grabbing his stomach. This must be big to make even Katara ditch her class. 

“Nothing good,” Katara murmured. 

Aang looked at Sokka. “Do you remember Jet?” 

Sokka’s face fell into a glare. Katara and Sokka had met Jet at a summer camp a few years back. He seemed nice enough, Katara had _really_ liked him, until Sokka caught him dunking a firebender kid’s face in the toilets. He gave Sokka a black eye, but Sokka gave him a concussion, so he felt confident in saying what he said next. 

“Sure. I beat his ass a few summers back.” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t take a beating.” Jet was leaning against the side of the stall, a strand of wheat held between his teeth. He smiled at Katara. She shot him a glare that could freeze the ocean into a sheet of ice. 

Sokka scoffed. “I got a black eye. You got a concussion. There’s a difference.” 

“You also had a split lip.” 

“What did you want to show me?” Aang asked, guiding the conversation back to focus. Jet smirked and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

“Wait, hang on, what’s going on here?” Sokka was sharing his sister’s bad feeling about this, and not just because Jet was here. 

Katara kept her glare on Jet. “Jet texted Aang to meet him here. Said he wanted to show him something.”

“I work for the Freedom Fighters now.” Jet said it like it would definitely mean something to all of them. He rolled his eyes at the dumbfounded looks he received. “It’s a newspaper. We expose the truth, and nothing but the truth. We have a big story coming out in... “ Jet checked his watch. “About two minutes. I wanted the avatar to see it first. I could run a follow up story, if you’d like to comment.” 

“What’s the story?” Katara asked coolly. 

Aang’s phone pinged. He rifled it out of his back pocket. “It’s… A video.”

“It’s more than a video.” Jet’s smile was glowing. “It’s firelord Ozai’s downfall.” 

Toph grinned. “In that case, I don’t suppose you brought a braille transcript?” 

Aang’s finger lingered over the play button. He looked at Katara, who nodded tentatively. They all gathered around. Aang turned the volume up to the highest setting for Toph, and hit play. 

The angle was strange and contorted. It looked to be shot from a security camera, set up in the upper corner of the room. Distant shouting could be heard. It got louder and louder, and then the door swung open. A little boy stumbled in, tripping a bit and bracing himself against the wall. Sokka squinted. The boy looked familiar, something about his stance and his paleness, though his face was turned away from the camera. Firelord Ozai stormed in after him, slamming the door with a mighty thud. 

“You humiliated me,” the firelord roared. “You deliberately spoke against me in front of my constituents. Foolish, arrogant, ungrateful boy!” 

“I’m sorry!” The voice broke on the ‘ry,’ and Sokka started feeling sick. 

“Oh, you’re sorry? Are you now? Do you think that fucking cuts it? My son spoke out of turn against me, but he’s sorry, so it’s all okay.” 

Ozai lunged, and the boy jumped to the other wall. His face was in full view. It was Zuko. Young Zuko. But his youthfulness wasn’t the only thing that made him look… Different. 

It took Sokka a moment to realize that the reason he looked different was because he didn’t have a scar. 

Ozai’s voice dropped low, and he mumbled something that wasn’t caught by the camera. Zuko’s eyes widened and he shook his head. Ozai said something else, and Zuko shook his head again. The firelord started shouting, so loud it cracked against the speakers: “PUT YOUR HANDS UP, PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN.” 

Zuko widened his legs and his shoulders, a fighting stance, but he didn’t put his hands up. He stared at his father, wide-eyed. 

What happened next happened so fast. The flash of fire was too bright to catch on camera. It looked like a huge orange cone shot from Ozai’s opened palm. It cascaded across the room and collided with Zuko’s terrified face. His entire figure was engulfed in light. It was only when the fire faded to smoke that he was visible again. He was crouched on the floor, clutching his eye, screaming. Screaming. Screaming. 

Aang’s phone fell to the floor. He stared at it, rigid. Katara had a palm pressed to her mouth. Toph’s white eyes were huge. “Was… Was that what it sounded like? Tell me that wasn’t what it sounded like?” 

“Firelord Ozai marred his son.” Jet was beaming. “He’s told the press for years that Zuko got his scar in a training accident, from a private tutor who was let go. He’s been lying.” 

“You can’t leak that.” Aang’s voice was firm, despite the shakiness in knees. “If that was leaked on some gossip website--”

“The Freedom Fighters are a legitimate news outlet!” Jet snapped. 

“It‘s horrible,” Katara cut in. “You can’t just post something like that.”

“The people deserve to know what kind of a man the firelord is.”

“We need to go about this in a different way. We need to talk to Zuko, and--” 

Everyone’s phone pinged. A breaking news notification. They didn’t need to check it. 

Katara took a step towards Jet with her hands balled into fists. He took a step back. “Someone at the office uploaded it, I didn’t get to choose when it came out. I just came down here for a quote from the avatar.”

“No. Comment.” Aang spoke through gritted teeth. “Get out.” 

Jet exited quickly, watching Katara over his shoulder as he went. He left behind a pile of silence bigger than Appa.

Toph was the first to break it. “Please, tell me that wasn’t what it sounded like.” 

Sokka laughed nervously. His chest felt hollow. His body felt strange and floaty. “I know I said I wanted a big political scandal, but… This wasn’t what I meant.” 

“What do we do?” Katara sounded younger than she was. She was usually the one who knew what to do. Now she was looking around at her friends, eyes wide and desperate. 

“We could… um…” Aang’s stutterings fell from his mouth, useless as the hay Appa slept in with unfair peacefulness. 

“There’s nothing we can do.” Sokka knew it wasn’t the answer they wanted, but it was the answer that was true. “The whole world is watching that video right now. We should just… Go back to class.” Suggesting they go back to class felt so out of character for Sokka, but it was the right thing to do. 

They all walked Toph back to her class, and then Aang and Sokka walked Katara back to her class, and then Sokka walked Aang back to his class. Sokka was walking himself back to his own class when he passed two girls huddled in front of a phone. He heard the video they were watching. When he rounded the corner, a boy was watching the same video. In the sliver of window on the classroom doors, Sokka saw students holding their phones under their desks. The teachers were too distracted to notice; they were probably looking at the same thing. Sokka was right. The whole world was watching that video. 

Sokka decided to stop by the bathroom before going back to class. He took the largest stall and scrolled through his phone. Every other post was about Zuko. The story had only broken ten minutes ago. 

The bathroom door swung open so aggressively it made Sokka jump. A pair of footsteps stumbled in and a loud thump sounded; a body hitting the floor. The hyperventilating made Sokka’s heart race, and the sickness returned to his stomach. For a moment he just stood there, listening to the frantic inhales and exhales. He took a breath before opening the door. 

Zuko was curled against the wall, clinging to his knees and panting. His eyes were squeezed so tightly shut that his eyelashes had disappeared. His entire body vibrated. Sokka considered sneaking out. From the limited knowledge he had on Zuko, he knew he wouldn’t want to be seen like this. He especially wouldn't want Sokka to see him like this, because though Sokka held some enjoyment for his little charade of annoying Zuko until he yelled his voice raspy, Zuko probably didn’t share his fondness. It might be more merciful to look the other way. But it didn’t feel right. 

Something deeper than mindless teenage rivalries enticed Sokka to speak: “Zuko?” 

Zuko’s eyes shot open. They were wide and yellow and terrified; the boy in the video. Tears snaked their way down his cheeks. His hyperventilating didn’t lessen. 

Every year on his mother’s birthday, only an hour or two before midnight, Sokka found Katara curled in a ball and sobbing on her bedroom floor. Every year, he took her in his arms and just held her. He held her tighter than he would hold his own mom were she to walk through the front door one day. He held her until the shaking stopped and her breathing evened. It was a rare moment where he took care of her, not the other way around. When he saw her like that, panting and shaking and crying for things long since lost, he knew in his bones that she needed to be held until the world became a little more possible again. 

Looking at Zuko now, his knees hugged to his chest, his good eye bigger than a yellow saucepan, Sokka knew he needed the same thing. He knelt down and took Zuko in his arms, a bit awkwardly, but full of purpose. Zuko stiffened for a moment, and then melted. He let go of his knees and fell into Sokka. Sokka squeezed him as his sobs raked into his chest, making a mess of his Arnook campaign shirt. Sokka rubbed his back. He held him sturdier than he would hold the little boy in the video. However much Zuko needed protection on that day, Sokka wanted to protect him more. None of the arguments and snotty comments mattered in this moment. All that mattered was keeping him safe. 

Something rattled against the tiled bathroom floor. Zuko’s phone had fallen out of his pocket. Sokka kept one arm around Zuko’s shaking back, and used the other one to pick up the phone. The contact name lighting up the screen said “Uncle Iroh.” 

Sokka’s brain went into overdrive. Iroh was Ozai’s brother. He ran a successful tea shop in the earth kingdom. He was often photographed with Zuko, but Ozai was also often photographed with Zuko, so that didn’t mean much. He seemed nice enough from the few things Sokka had seen and read, but he had also read that Zuko and Ozai had a great relationship. Nothing from the papers could be trusted. But Sokka had seen in some political gossip column that Ozai and Iroh didn’t get along, which would make Iroh good. But again, nothing from the papers could be trusted. But Iroh was calling Zuko, maybe to check in. Or maybe to scream at him and tell him that his maniac father was coming to scorch his other eye. But he ran a tea shop, for crying out loud. Tea must be the least violent drink in the world. Unless it was thrown at someone’s face. But Iroh had such a kind face, one of those faces that make you feel safe enough to reveal all your secrets at once. He didn’t have a tea-throwing face. He had a tea-drinking face. 

With a leap of faith, Sokka picked up the phone. 

“Zuko!” The old man’s voice shook against the speakers. “I saw, I’m on my way. Are you alright?” 

“Um, hi, Zuko’s Uncle, uh… it’s uh… it’s Sokka.” Sokka immediately felt stupid for saying his name like it would mean anything to Iroh. And for calling him “Zuko’s Uncle” instead of just his name. Or would Sir Iroh be more appropriate? He made a mental note to learn how to properly address the brothers of powerful people. 

A drawn out beep screamed in the background, almost swallowing Iroh’s voice. “Hakoda’s boy?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sokka was startled at the recognition. “I, uh, I have Zuko here. We’re in the boys bathroom, on the first floor.” 

“Thank you, Sokka.” The voice was rich and sincere. Sokka knew he made the right decision in picking up the phone. “I’ll be there soon.” 

The line clicked to an end. Sokka placed the phone down and wrapped the other arm around Zuko. They were silent. The crying had stopped, but the shaking persisted. Sokka kept rubbing his back. He wondered if all firebenders had such warm skin. 

The door to the bathroom flung open about ten minutes later. It didn’t startle Sokka. There was nothing startling about Iroh. He was small and stout, dressed in a Jasmine Dragon apron with one of those funny looking tea hats on his head. He must have just left a shift at the Jasmine Dragon. His amber eyes held gallons of kindness and concern. 

Carefully, Sokka let go of Zuko, guiding him from his own arms to his uncle’s. Zuko stirred in confusion. He looked to be halfway asleep.

“Uncle?” His voice was hoarse and small. Iroh shushed him. 

“It’s alright, nephew,” he said softly, running a hand through Zuko’s black hair. “It’s going to be alright.” 

Sokka’s palm found the back of his neck. He felt like he was intruding on something unbelievable personal. He took an awkward step backwards. 

Iroh met his eyes. “Thank you, Sokka.” He sounded more sincere in person than he did over the phone. “Your kindness will not be forgotten.”

When Sokka left, his legs didn’t carry him back to class. They carried him out of the building and across the green grass to the barn where Appa was still sleeping. Sokka climbed his side and laid flat on his back. Momo scrambled towards him and curled up on his stomach. They all three laid there, silent save Appa’s beast-like snores, for hours and hours. 

Katara was the first one back. She looked concerned to see her brother coexisting peacefully with Momo. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” Sokka sat up and rolled his shoulders back. “Class let out early.” 

“Did you hear?” 

“‘Bout what?” 

“The results came out. You were right, about every single one of them.” 

Sokka smiled, though it didn’t feel like a victory.

Zuko saw the headline. He read it once, twice, three times. He tried to make it make sense. It didn’t. It was only when he clicked on the video that it made sense, and that only made it make sense because he was there again, standing in front of his father, too scared to put his hands up. 

Zuko had walked out of class without a word. The panic was biting at his ankles, crawling up his back, preparing to seize him. He couldn’t outrun it. He needed to get to a locker room, or an empty classroom, or anywhere other than this too bright hall where the walls seemed to be caving in. 

Zuko couldn't remember how he found the bathroom. All he knew was that he tumbled in, and then Sokka was standing above him, which was weird because Zuko didn’t remember sitting down. And then Sokka was holding him. His arms were strong, which was good. He wanted to be held, to be carried away and shielded and made right again. He was crying. Sokka rubbed his back. 

And then Uncle was there. Zuko had no clue where he had come from, but he ran his soft, tea making and pai sho playing fingers through Zuko’s hair, and then he led them to his car and then they were in the Jasmine Dragon and then they were walking upstairs and then it was all quiet. 

And then Zuko awoke to his father shouting. 

He felt around to gauge his surroundings. He was in Uncle’s bed. The blanket was heavy and the pillows smelled like lavender. The shouting was coming from downstairs; either his father was fighting with someone in the middle of a crowded tea shop, or the shop was closed and Zuko had slept through the operating hours. He slid out of bed and made his way down the stairs. He felt oddly numb, and oddly brave. 

“You’ll return my son to me, or you’ll pay!” Ozai’s voice was enough to break every teacup in the building. 

Uncle, despite being a significant amount shorter than his brother, seemed to look down on Ozai. “Zuko will stay with me.” 

“He’s my son!” 

“He may be your son, but you haven’t been a father to him a day in his life.” 

“Why don’t we settle down a bit.” Zhoa stepped between Ozai and Uncle, eyes darting back and forth with rodent-like skittishness. “Iroh, whilst we acknowledge your opinions, we need Zuko back. The fire nation is near rioting. Many citizens sent their ballots in early, you see. They said they would have rethought their decisions had they known... “ He scratched at the reddish beard on his cheek. “Look, Zuko making the speech should calm things down.” 

Uncle raised his chin, unwavering. “Zuko will stay with me.” 

Ozai started towards Uncle, growling out the words “Why, you…” 

“What speech?” Zuko asked, deciding to step around the corner and end whatever was about to happen before it began. 

“You’re coming with me.” Ozai said at the same time that Uncle said “You should still be asleep.” 

Zuko held his ground. “What speech?” 

Zhoa stepped forwards. “We were hoping you would address the press to, er, explain the circumstances of the video. For your father.” He laughed airly, scanning Zuko’s face with nervous eyes. “We actually drafted a speech for you,” he whisked a piece of paper from under the wing of his trenchcoat. “Just something to mull over. Feel free to make it your own, so long as you include the gist of it, you know. For your father.” 

Zuko took the paper and scanned. It was as he expected. _The video was taken out of context._ _My father was attempting to teach me a lesson_. _I am deeply regretful to have caused a scandal in my father’s great career._ _We laugh about it now._

Zuko looked from the sheet of paper to his father’s eyes. “I’m only making this speech if I get to stay here with Uncle.”

Ozai’s face darkened. “What did you just say to me?” 

“I’m only making this speech if I get to stay here with Uncle.” Zuko spoke with the stiff diction of a robot. 

“You get to stay here with me regardless of whether or not you make the speech.” Uncle moved to step in front of Zuko, but he held up a hand. 

“But, uh, you see,” Zhoa cut in. “it would look bad for your father if you were photographed living somewhere else. It might make the relationship seem… Insincere.” 

“I think a video of my father burning my face may make it seem a bit more insincere than a change of address.” 

Ozai stepped forward and Zuko thought for a moment that he was about to lose his good eye. Zhoa grabbed his arm. 

“Give us a moment, please,” Zhoa said with a meek smile. “Sir? A word outside?” 

The two men stepped through the glass door into the dark and empty streets. Iroh immediately started trying to convince Zuko that he didn’t need to make some phoney speech to stay here, but his words drifted in through one ear and out the other like steam from a tea kettle. He knew he had to do this. This was the first time he had something to hold over his father. This was his first real chance at escape. 

Ozai and Zhoa came back inside about fifteen minutes later. 

“You’ll ride home from school with Azula,” Ozai said. “You'll walk in and out of the front door every day. Security guards will sneak you out through the back and escort you here in the evenings, and pick you up in time to ride into school with Azula in the mornings. In the eyes of the press, you sleep under my roof every night.” 

Zuko nodded. 

“And you’ll be at my side for every gala, every party, every fundraiser. I’ll have my staff drop off what you’ll wear.” 

Zuko nodded again. 

“And you’ll make the speech. Tonight.” 

“It’s three in the morning,” Iroh protested, but again, Zuko held up a hand. 

“I’ll do everything. Just as long as I get to stay here.”

Ozia nodded and left the Jasmine Dragon without another word. It was Zhoa who provided the address to the pressroom where Zuko was scheduled to speak. He offered to drive, but Iroh assured with a cold voice that he could manage. 

On the way there, Iroh said “You don’t have to do this, Zuko. You don’t have to do any of it.” 

Zuko looked out the window and watched the world pass by.


	2. Chapter 2

Sokka and Zuko had history class together last year. 

On a particularly dreary day, their teacher made the unwise decision to leave the classroom unattended with strict instructions for her students to stay seated and complete a packet of busywork. Sokka took it as an opportunity to slip out from behind his desk and meander around. He found his way to the front corner of the classroom where Zuko sat, working diligently on a history themed word search. 

“Heeey,” Sokka said, poking Zuko in the arm. He didn’t respond. Sokka poked him again, and again, and again. “Hey, hey, hi, helllooooo, Zukoooo, earth to Zuuukkkoooo, hey, heyyyyy--” 

“WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” Zuko yelled at the top of his lungs, making every student in the classroom jump in almost perfect sync. 

Sokka laughed. “There’s the good ol’ Zuko we all know and love. Why don’t you talk like that in class? It would make it so much less boring.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zuko spoke through gritted teeth. Every muscle in his body was tensed and near vibrating with fury. He really was too easy. 

“Well, we all know that you’re a just a ball of rage disguised in a costume of pale skin and pointy hair--”

“My hair is _not_ pointy!” 

“--but when you answer questions in class, you’re all calm and collected. You even smile sometimes. Do you get possessed by emotionally stable aliens every time the teacher calls on you?” Sokka waggled his fingers in Zuko’s face and made some alien noises. Zuko swatted his hands down with unnecessary force, leaving pink imprints on his tan skin. 

“The teacher wouldn’t pass me if I spent this whole class yelling as much as I want to.” Zuko looked forwards and closed his eyes. He took a breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. When he opened his eyes, there was an easy smile on his face. “This is what teachers want to see,” Zuko spoke with a voice that held both softness and assurance, respect and confidence. “You have to give people what they want, and they’ll give you what you want.” 

Sokka whistled. “You could be a politician. Make the old man proud.”

Zuko’s face fell back to it’s natural scowl. “Who do you think taught me?” 

Sokka left him alone for the rest of the class. 

The interaction had popped back into Sokka’s head when he saw Zuko’s speech. Everything about him was so out of character, it was almost painful to watch. The unbothered smile. The soft eyes. Some well placed chuckles to lighten the mood. He made the whole incident out to be a stupid misunderstanding, not videographic evidence of child abuse. The speech was clearly written by a member of Ozai’s staff, or maybe Ozai himself, for Zuko to deliver. Sokka had gone to school with the guy for two years, and while they weren’t exactly friends, he knew Zuko didn’t talk like that. Ozai was a puppeteer, pulling everyone into the direction that would benefit him the most. _You have to give people what they want,_ Zuko had said. The fire nation wanted justification for their leader’s actions. Ozia had given them that. 

No wonder Zuko was so angry all the time. 

Sokka put his phone face down on his pillow and sighed. He had replayed the video three times, and each watchthrough made him feel crappier. Food would help, he decided. Food always helped. 

Katara and Hokoda looked surprised to see Sokka. Their gazes followed him as he made his way to the cereal. 

“What’s with you guys?” Sokka pulled the lucky charms out of the cabinet. 

“Did you finally learn how to set an alarm?” Hokota asked. 

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Is it completely unbelievable that I’m capable of getting myself out of bed in the morning without someone waking me up?” 

Katara answered without hesitation: “Yes.” 

Sokka rolled his eyes again and poured himself a hearty serving of lucky charms. He took a seat next to his father and paused before speaking. “Hey, Dad, do you know Iroh? Ozai’s brother?” 

Hokoda’s face lit up. “We met once, at some fundraiser for the school. He’s probably the kindest man I’ve ever met. Why?” 

“Just wonderin’.” Sokka stuck a spoonful of milk and cereal and marshmallows—mostly marshmallows—into his mouth. He remembered Iroh instantly being able to identify him as Hokoda’s boy, despite the fact that they had only met once. He must have been one of those people who made a point to remember the people he interacted with, one of those people who genuinely cared. Sokka was glad that Zuko had at least one good person in his life. 

Katara sat down at the table after pouring herself some cereal. “Did you see Zuko’s speech?” 

Sokka nodded, stirring his bowl. 

“Poor kid,” Hokoda mumbled. “He’s in your grade Sokka, right? Do you two ever talk?” 

The ghost of a shaking body pressed itself against Sokka’s chest. He ate another spoonful of cereal. “Not really.” 

Appa’s arrival was a little quieter today than it was yesterday, but not by much. Katara and Sokka called a goodbye over their shoulders to Hokoda and made the climb up Appa’s side to the saddle on his back. Aang yawned with cartoonish volume and gave Katara and Sokka a sleepy smile. “Morning.” 

“You alright?” Katara scanned his face in concern. He was sporting some pretty intense under eyes. 

“Yup, just a little tired.” Aang stretched and yawned again. “Me and some others at the air temple were up pretty late celebrating.” 

“Celebrating, huh?” Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Whatdcha do? Throw a rager? Trash the place? Steal some bubbly from a mini fridge?” 

“Even better!” Aang’s beam looked to stretch across his whole face. “We raced on our hand gliders and made s’mores!” Katara smiled while Sokka rolled his eyes. 

Aang yawned again, and then said “Yip yip!” Appa let out a particularly bellowing roar before taking off. Toph, who was curled in the corner of the saddle, groaned. 

“I had just gotten back to sleep,” she complained. 

Sokka looked at her. “Did _you_ at least throw a rager and trash the place and steal some bubbly from the mini fridge?” 

“I wish. My mom and dad threw some stupid richy rich party with all of their richy rich friends. They were up laughing all night in that snobby way rich people laugh.” Toph let out an airy, high-pitched laugh that sounded a bit like a singing groundhog caught in barbed wire. “It made me wish I was deaf instead of blind.” Katara handed Toph her backpack to use as a pillow. 

“Did you guys see Zuko’s speech?” Aang climbed from Appa’s head to the saddle. Appa had flown the gang to school so many times, he knew the way without instructions. Momo remained seated in the driver's position, perhaps to offer emotional support. 

Katara nodded slowly. “It seemed really staged.” 

“It was absolutely staged,” Sokka cut in with a bit too much vigor. “This is politics, Katara. Make scandal. Hide scandal. Scandal comes out. Justify scandal. Blah, blah, blah.” 

Toph shifted against Katara’s backpack and mumbled “It’s the mansplaining for me.” 

Katara looked down at the houses and streets passing below. “I hope Zuko’s okay.” 

“He will be,” Aang said. “The monks always say that time can heal all wounds.” 

“I’m not sure if Zuko’s face would agree with the monks on that one,” Sokka retorted. Aang’s jaw dropped. Katara glared. “Too soon?” 

“Can you be any more insensitive?” Katara hissed. 

Sokka leaned against the side of the saddle and crossed his arms over his chest, where he could still feel the wet of Zuko’s tears soaking through his shirt. His arms still ached from the pressure of not letting go. His heart still throbbed with an urgent desire to protect, protect, protect. 

“‘Fraid not. I've exceeded the limit of insensitivity that’s allowed in one human package.” 

Toph groaned and sat up, pushing Katara’s backpack away with her soleless shoes. “Your bag is a sucky pillow. Too many edges.”

“Those are books, Toph,” Katara said. “You know, for class?” 

“Oh yeah. I forgot you actually go to class.”

“I really hope that’s a joke.” 

“For your sake, it is.”

“Toph!” 

“Hey, can you hand me the backpack? I’d rather sleep on a sucky pillow than have this conversation.” 

Katara started lecturing. She didn’t stop when Toph put the backpack over her head to use as an ear muffler. She didn’t stop until Appa landed in front of the school. 

Zuko didn’t go to school on Wednesday. He was too tired to obey his alarm. He had only fallen asleep about half an hour earlier, after getting back from delivering the speech. Uncle snuck in and turned the alarm off. When Ozia’s staff member came by to pick Zuko up, Uncle sent them away.

When Zuko re-woke on Wednesday around noon, Uncle was standing in the doorway with a tray of oatmeal and tea in his outstretched arms. 

“I’m not hungry,” Zuko said. 

Uncle sat at the foot of the bed. “Food is fuel, nephew. A malnourished body cannot be expected to guide the mind and heart through times of turmoil. At least try to eat?” 

Zuko blinked. Uncle didn’t want Zuko to eat so he would look healthy for the press, he wanted him to eat so he would be healthy for himself. There were no sky-high expectations or standards to meet. There was just a bowl of oatmeal and some tea. The knot of anxiety in Zuko’s stomach unfurled itself a bit, leaving room for a pang of hunger. Zuko took the bowl and ate it clean. 

Zuko planned to go back to school on Thursday. He woke when his alarm went off, got up, dressed himself, and had breakfast. He was standing in the doorway waiting for the staff member to pick him up when his heart started pounding in his ears. His breathing stopped coming easily. His vision ebbed in and out of focus. 

Uncle took one look at him and told him to go back to bed. He would deal with the staff member. 

Zuko went back to sleep. When he woke up, he decided it was time to face his phone. Ty Lee had called five times and left about a dozen texts. Mai had called once and sent a few texts. A few unfamiliar numbers had texted and called. Nothing from Azula. Nothing from his father. 

The headlines concerning Zuko and his father were disorienting. #SaveZuko was treading on multiple websites. A rival hashtag was #BratBoy, primarily used by diehard Ozia supporters who blamed Zuko for hurting his father’s career. Old pictures from years ago were resurfacing and being analyzed with an absurd amount of thought. Someone had taken a picture of Ozia with his arm around Zuko at a christmas party, zoomed in on Ozia’s hand on Zuko’s shoulder, and circled some patches of whiteness on his knuckles. Below the picture was a paragraph about how the knuckles were whitened from the force of Ozai digging his nails in, which was obviously proof that Zuko was being hurt on a daily basis and needed to be removed from the household immediately. Zuko found a dozen posts like that in a fifteen minute span. 

“Put your phone down, Zuko.” Zuko jumped. Uncle was standing in the doorway. Zuko hadn’t heard him come upstairs. “The internet is a strange and dizzying place. You don’t need to look at it, not right now. Come, let’s make some tea.” 

On Friday, Zuko knew he had to go back. He hadn’t been absent for three days in a row since primary school. Plus, there was that victory party at Arnook’s palace tonight, and Ozia had made it very clear that Zuko was to be at his side for every party and gala and fundraiser. He couldn’t very well skip out on class now and show up to the party later. 

Uncle asked about a million times if Zuko was _really_ okay, to which he replied that yes, he really was. He wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, but either way he was going back today. 

The staff member was standing in the Jasmine Dragon’s doorway at 5:30. He ushered Zuko into a small car with dark windows. They took secluded and winding roads to the house, and snuck Zuko in through the kitchen’s backdoor like he was some kind of traveling fugitive. Azula was standing in the foyer with her backpack on, looking disinterested as ever. She and Zuko strutted out through the front door side by side and were helped into the car by the driver, like they had been a million times before. Zuko looked out the window and took a deep breath. This was just another friday. 

“Dad’s not happy.” Azula broke the silence about five minutes into the drive. 

Zuko kept looking out the window. “Dad’s never happy.” 

“You’re breaking the terms of the agreement.”

“How?”

“You were supposed to ride in and out of school with me every day. You’ve already missed two days.” 

“I wasn’t feeling well.” 

“That’s not an excuse. Not for us.” 

She was right. Zuko couldn’t count the amount of times he had gone to school with the stomach bug, or she had gone to school running a fever. 

“Well, I’m here now.” 

“Do you really think you can keep this up?”

“Dad covered the tracks.” 

“What if it comes out?”

“Then he’ll cover them again.” Zuko could still feel the glare of the camera flashes as he forced that horrible speech past the lump in his throat. _It was a misunderstanding. He was teaching me a lesson._

“So, what, you live with Uncle now?” 

“I guess.”

“For how long?” 

“I don’t know.” Zuko was hoping it could be forever, but he didn’t want to hope for something that could be taken away. He had trained himself to expect the worse, so he was always either right or pleasantly surprised. Usually he was right. 

“You’re leaving the people who need you.”

Zuko scoffed. “Dad only needs the image of me. He doesn’t need me.” 

“I’m not talking about Dad. You’re leaving the people who need you.” Azula’s voice broke. “The person who needs you.”

Azula was crying, and Zuko had absolutely no idea what to do. He had only seen Azula cry three times in his life; once when she was a baby, once when she was thrown from the back of an eel hound, and once on mother’s day. Zuko had snuck downstairs to grab a cookie from the kitchen, and found Azula curled in the corner with a phone clutched to her ear. “She thinks I’m a monster,” she had sobbed. “My own mother thinks I’m a monster.” Zuko crept back up the stairs without saying a word. He assumed she had been talking to Ty Lee, but he didn’t know for sure. He never asked. 

“You need me?” He repeated lamely. Azula choked on a laugh. 

“I don’t have anyone else.”

“You have Ty Lee.” 

“What?”

“She was there for you that one night.” Azula looked at Zuko, confusion filling her watery yellow eyes. “On mother’s day. You were on the phone, I… I don't know, I thought you were talking to Ty Lee.” 

Azula’s cheeks pinkened. “You saw me?” Zuko nodded carefully. Azula sniffed and reached a hand up to wipe at her eyes, which hardly did any good. For every one tear she mopped away, two more took its place. “I wasn’t talking to Ty Lee. I wasn’t talking to anyone. That wasn’t even a real phone, dummy. It was one of those plastic phones that you give babies. Mom gave it to _you_. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You loved it for a week, and then you forgot about it because she gave something else, something better. She was always giving you things. She loved you. She never loved me. Nobody loves me. That’s why I only cry on toy phones, I don’t have anyone to call. I don’t have anyone. That’s why I need you.” 

Zuko opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, watching his sister try and dry her tears. She turned her head towards the window so Zuko couldn’t see her. It didn’t take her too long to pull it together, but she still kept her face away. 

It took Zuko about five minutes to gather enough will to speak: “I can’t come back.” 

Azula remained facing the window. “I know.” 

Zuko shifted in his seat. His sister’s vulnerability was palpable. It felt so wrong. He wanted to give something back. He wanted to help her in some way, do something to make up for leaving her. Not that anything he could say would be able to make that right. 

“I… I cried in front of Sokka.” Azula said nothing, though the straightness touching her back indicated that she was listening. Zuko took a deep breath. He hadn’t been letting himself even think about what had happened with Sokka. The humiliation had claws that sunk deeper into his skin every time he gave it attention. He already felt like he was bleeding out. “I… I left class after that video was released, and… I don’t know, I think I started… Panicking? I found my way to a bathroom, and Sokka was there, and…” Zuko dug his fingernails into his palms and reminded himself that he had left Azula. He left her alone with Ozia. He owed her something. “He held me. He held me and I cried in his arms like a child.” Saying it out loud made it so much worse. It made it so real. Zuko felt sick all over. He wanted to transfer schools. But now that Azula knew, maybe she could help. She could concoct some intricate plan to keep them apart until they both graduated. It was definitely within the realm of her capabilities. 

The car veered to a stop in the driveway. Zuko hadn’t noticed they were nearing the school. 

Azula slipped out of the car and walked wordlessly towards the building. Zuko followed her. He pretended not to notice the stares, the whispers. He pretended that his stomach wasn’t a cave of buzzard wasps. 

While most mornings at school whizzed by in a quick and confused fog, this one crawled on with cruel clarity. Zuko heard every click of the clock and tap of a shoe and rub of an eraser. Everyone was looking at him like some kind of wounded animal left out in the rain. He tried to be extra grumpy to compensate, but nothing seemed to work. Zuko’s reputation was altered and he didn’t know if it would ever go back to the way it was before. 

It felt like a week's worth of time before a bell dismissed the students to lunch. Zuko almost didn’t bother getting a tray of food. It was Uncle’s words, not Zhao’s, that encouraged him to grab one and pile on some Mac and cheese and green beans. He certainly needed help guiding his heart and mind through these times of turmoil. 

He sat down at his usual table without meeting Mai or Ty Lee’s eyes. He didn’t want to give them an opportunity to bring it up. Ty Lee figited. Zuko saw Mai shake her head out of the corner of his eye. 

Azula started talking the second she sat down with her tray. “You know Ty Lee, I’ve been thinking about you.” 

Ty Lee’s eyes brightened. “Really!? That’s so sweet! I always think about you, too!” 

Azula smiled in a calculating manner that didn’t sit right with Zuko. “Zuzu pointed out in the car that you’ve really been a great friend to me over the years. Always there when I need you.” 

Ty Lee looked on her way to tears. “Of course I’m always here. And I’ll always be here. Because you’re my best fr—“ 

“I thought it was high time I did something in return. You know, to show my appreciation.” 

Ty Lee blinked. “You don’t have to do anything. Just being my friend is enough.” 

“Don’t be silly. You deserve more than that.” Azula tapped her bottom lip with a long, manicured nail. “I know it’s late notice, but what about a date to the party tonight? They could come to dinner beforehand with us, and then whisk you off your feet on the dance floor.” 

“Oh, I don’t need—“ 

“What about Sokka? You’ve had your eye on him for ages.” 

A huge wave of nerves descended on Zuko. He stared at Azula, open mouthed. Years ago, their Dad had told them that if anyone ever saw you bruised, you needed to see them bleeding, even if you had to make the wound yourself. Zuko had seen Azula bruised in the car, and now she was going to make him bleed. She was going to bring Sokka to a place where Zuko couldn’t escape. And worse, tonight was going to be the first time since he left that he would see his father. That plus Sokka would make this the second worst night of Zuko’s life, second only to the night his father burnt his eye. 

“Sokka is cute,” Ty Lee said slowly. “But, uh, we don’t really talk. I’m not sure how I would ask him. Especially on such short notice.” 

“Allow me. This is my gift to you. For being such a great friend.” 

Zuko could do nothing but watch helplessly as Azula stood up and walked over to Sokka's table. He was sitting in his usual seat, probably cracking his usual jokes. He and his friends were all smiling their usual smiles, which faded into surprise and confusion when Azula strolled over and pulled a chair up next to Sokka. Zuko looked down at his barely touched food and didn’t dare look back up until Azula came back

“Good news!” Azula spoke in a singsong voice. “Sokka is open to taking you, but he already planned to go with his little group of friends. So, we’re all going to go together.” 

Zuko’s eyes darted up from his food. “That won’t work,” he said quickly. “Dad won’t allow it.” Zuko and Azula were both aware of their father’s disdain for the avatar. He didn’t need to say it for Azula to know what he meant. 

“On the contrary,” Azula drawled out, “Dad would love it if we were seen with the avatar. He’s been getting some bad press lately,” she shot Zuko a pointed look, “and the avatar represents inclusivity and balance. This will be good for everyone.” Zuko bent his plastic fork until it snapped in half. Azula kept her smile. “In light of… recent events, they declined my offer of father hosting us for dinner, so we’re going to dine beforehand at the Beifong residence. Afterwards, the avatar’s bison will fly us to the party.” 

“Um, alright!” Ty Lee smiled, though it looked a bit forced. “Thank you Azula, that’s so sweet of you!” 

Azula speared a green bean and looked at Zuko’s tray. “Eat up, Zuzu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Azula do be having that ~trauma~ and the Gaang is straight vibing, what else is new lmao 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the support on the last chapter!! I love reading yall's comments :)


	3. Chapter 3

“This is really weird.” 

Sokka adjusted Aang’s tie and took a step back to examine his work. Aang’s eyebrows knitted together. 

“The tie?” 

“No, the tie looks good. This situation is weird.” 

“Oh.” 

Sokka stepped forwards and put his hands on Aang’s shoulders to spin him towards the mirror. He smiled shyly at his reflection, tugging on his tie and the hem of his suit jacket. 

“I mean, it’s not weird that Ty Lee wanted to go with me, as we all know I’ve got an insane amount of game.” Sokka tugged on his own tie and winked at his reflection over Aang’s head. “It’s just… the _way_ it happened.” 

Aang fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket. “Uh huh.” 

“And this dinner, what are we even supposed to talk about? It’s gonna be weird. This whole thing is just… Weird.”

“It’ll be okay, Sokka. You’re great at talking to people.” 

“That is true.” 

A knock rattled the pristine walls. “You girls decent?” Toph called, and threw open the door before they could answer. She looked a bit strange, all dolled up in a frilly white dress that swept the ground with every step she took. Very pretty, but strange. Not like herself. Her parents had definitely picked out the dress. “Mom wanted us downstairs five minutes ago, so I was wondering if we could stall for ten. Make her squirm.” 

“You shouldn’t antagonize your parents, Toph.” Katara walked in after her. She was wearing a teal mermaid dress that she had bought with her own money from an off-season clearance section. Aang’s cheeks turned dangerously red as he took her in, but she didn’t seem to notice. “They’re already stressed enough. You saw them yell at that florist.”

Toph shrugged. “They get like this whenever anyone remotely important comes over. It’s so fake. They didn’t care about the floral arrangements yesterday, but now the firelord’s children are involved everything _has_ to be perfect.” 

A twinge of anxiety turned in Sokka’s stomach. Tonight would be the first time he and Zuko had seen each other since the bathroom, minus some subtle looks Sokka had cast in Zuko’s direction earlier today in the cafeteria during lunch. He hadn’t looked at Sokka, or much of anywhere except his own tray. Sokka couldn't blame him. The scandal had been the forefront of conversation since Election Day, and it wasn’t quieting down. This party would be littered with paparazzi hoping to catch a shot of the father and son’s first public appearance since the incident. If Sokka was nervous, he couldn’t imagine how Zuko felt. 

Toph’s mother appeared in the doorway. Her face was so heavily painted she looked like a cartoon character. “Toph! What are you doing? I told you to have you and your friends downstairs five minutes ago!” 

“We’re going as fast as we can, mother.” Toph’s voice was a mask of innocence. “Sokka and Aang are holding us up. You know how boys are, always taking forever to get ready.” 

Sokka ran a hand over the top of Aang’s bald head. “Aang’s having a bad hair day, Mrs Beifong.” 

The older woman rolled her eyes and grumbled something before strolling down the stairs, each step a satisfying click under her heels. Sokka and Aang dissolved into laughter as soon as she sounded out of earshot. Katara shook her head, trying to conceal a small smile touching her painted lips. 

A knock echoed from the level below, and Mrs Beifong all but screeched “KIDS, GET DOWN THERE.” The four hurried down the stairs and stood in an awkward clump behind Toph’s parents, who fumbled with their outfits a bit before signaling a well-dressed butler to pull the door open. 

Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee were all dressed in their signature colors: Azula in red, Mai in black, and Ty Lee in pink. Zuko was in a well-tailored tux with a perfectly done bow tie around his neck. He kept his eyes trained on the floor while Azula made direct eye-contact with her hosts. “I’m sorry if we’re a bit late.” 

“Not at all!” Mrs Beifong ushered the group inside. “My, you all look lovely. The fire nation certainly knows how to dress.” 

“It’s a law my father passed. All citizens must be well-dressed. Any violators are viable to be punished by death.” Mr and Mrs Beifong laughed. Sokka understood what Toph meant about the rich people laugh being insufferable. 

Azula walked further inside and looked around. “Well well, the architecture is as eloquent inside as it is out. So many of these earth kingdom houses think that trimming the hedges makes for an impressive living space. This residence is a nice change of pace. Don’t you agree, Zuko?” 

Zuko blinked and looked around. “Um… Yes. It’s very… Big. And… Clean.” Sokka bit the inside of his cheek to fend off laughter. 

Mr and Mrs Beifong lead the crew into a large dining room with a huge rectangular table with plates already set. They all took a seat in front of fancy dishes in tiny portions. Sokka frowned down at his plate. It looked enough to satiate the hunger of Momo. 

“It’s the appetizer,” Ty Lee whispered from her seat next to Sokka. 

“Will the entree be bigger? Like, at least five times this size?” Ty Lee giggled a little harder than the question warranted. Sokka laughed along, a bit awkwardly. “Seriously though, I’m going to need more food than this if you want a half tolerable date.” 

Sokka’s concerns were met with the doors to the kitchen whisking open. Waiters dressed in black and white set down several dishes in front of each person; a warm, earthy soup, some buttery rolls, and little circles of meat enclosed in fresh dough. A vegetarian substitute was offered for Aang. 

Sokka scarfed as he made small talk with Ty Lee. Azula’s chatter with the Beifong’s kept pace throughout the entire dinner. The kindness was an obvious mask to her peers, but Toph’s parents were utterly charmed by her engagement. Zuko barely opened his mouth, not even to eat. His food was only nibbled at by the time the waiters whisked back in to take the plates away. A stab of concern landed itself in the center of Sokka’s chest. He watched Zuko across the table when he wasn’t talking to Ty Lee. He looked even more pale and miserable than usual. 

“Did everyone get enough to eat?” Mrs Beifong’s eyes fell to Zuko as she spoke, probably personalizing his lack of an appetite and planning to fire half of the kitchen staff. 

“It was delicious,” Azula cut in. When she stood, Mai and Ty Lee did so too. “Thank you for the dinner, I’ll be telling my father of your hospitality when I see him tonight.

“It was nothing,” Mr Beifong insisted, though his eyes had brightened when Azula mentioned her father. Toph was right; they did like important people. 

Appa was stationed in the back garden where he always waited when the gang went to Toph’s. Sokka was fully prepared to be a gentleman and help Ty Lee onto the saddle, but she had already mounted the bison, bounding from his tail to the saddle like an acrobat, before he could offer a hand. Aang helped the other three up with verbal instruction, not daring to reach out and touch any of them. They were all on Appa’s back in the span of five minutes. Aang cast a glance over his shoulder before turning to Appa and saying “Yip yip!”

The ride to the party was strange. Ty Lee chatted the entire time, mostly with Sokka, but also with the other members of the gang. She asked Katara how she did her hair and Aang what his favorite element to bend was and Toph what it was like to be able to see with her feet. She was a non-stop chatter machine, adverse to Azula and Mia who sat towards the side of the saddle looking bored. Zuko was facing away from Sokka in a way that felt just a bit personal. 

When Appa landed in front of the grand ice castle, a half dozen men dressed head to toe in tan stepped forwards to take his reins. Ty Lee gasped when she saw them. 

“I love your outfits! They’re so modern, who designed them?” 

“Ty Lee, no,” Mai groaned. “They’re sandbenders.” 

Ty Lee looked confused. “What are sandbenders doing at an ice castle?” 

“It’s for the transportation animals, Ty Lee.” Azula jumped off of Appa graceful as an air bender and smirked over her shoulder. “Dad had one of these at a fundraiser a few months back. They take the animals to a sandpit behind the castle and watch them while we’re at the party.” 

“A sandpit?” 

“Think of it as a giant litter box, and be glad you’re not a sandbender staffed at this party. Come on, let’s go inside.” 

The party was overwhelming at first glance. Sokka had to blink a few times as though he had just walked into a too-bright room. The wardrobe choices varied in vibrant arrays of velvets and silks with matching scarves and furs slung over bare shoulders. The floor was layered in carpet to prevent a slipping hazard, but the walls were tall and constructed in pure ice which glittered in the light like a diamond dream. 

Ty Lee linked her arm with Sokka’s and waded into the crowd, a giddy smile lighting her face. “I just love parties like this, don’t you?” 

“Sure, totally!” Sokka replied in a way that hopefully didn’t radiate the energy of someone who had never been to a party like this. He glanced over his shoulder, looking helplessly for one of his friends. They were lost in a sea of lipstick and jeweled necklaces. 

“You look very handsome in that suit.” Ty Lee’s voice was a sultry purr, and Sokka should have been transported to heaven. The amount of locker room conversations he had participated in that involved Ty Lee would suggest that he would love to have her talk to him in that tone, but his mind kept traveling elsewhere. He kept seeing the back of Zuko’s head, staring out into the night as Appa flew them here. 

“Why thank you,” Sokka forced himself to reply. “You wear that shade of pink pretty good yourself.” Why didn't Zuko eat? Why did he look so sickly? 

“It’s my signature color for a reason.” 

Sokka shook off the weird Zuko thoughts and looked at Ty Lee. She was undeniably beautiful, with her huge gray eyes and her beach air smile. And she was sweet and charming and she laughed at every single one of his jokes. He’d be an idiot not to try and enjoy this time with her. 

“Hey,” Sokka said, a smirk tracing his lips. “Wanna dance?” 

Sokka was a terrible dancer. Zuko swallowed a lump of secondhand embarrassment as he watched him fall flat on his back while attempting a moonwalk across the floor, sending Ty Lee nearly to her knees in laughter. He sprung right back up as though nothing happened and continued attempting the dance, laughing as he did so. 

“Enjoying the view?” Mai joined Zuko in the corner he had stationed himself. 

“No,” Zuko said quickly, his cheeks reddening slightly. Mai raised an eyebrow and followed his eyeline to Sokka and Ty Lee. 

“Why do you think Azula asked him out for her?” 

“I don’t know.” If Mai could tell it was a lie, she didn’t say anything. Zuko paused for a moment, turning the words over in his mind before saying them. “How do you think he can do that?” 

“Who?” 

“Sokka. Look at him, he looks like an idiot. And there are people around. Do you think he knows that?” 

“I don’t think he cares.” 

“How can he not care?” 

“It’s easy. I do it every day.” 

“Well clearly you don’t, since you’re not out there looking like an idiot with him.” 

“It’s individualized. If I cared what people thought of me, I’d be out there trying to socialize and make people like me. But I don’t. Not caring means doing what you want to do, and telling anyone who judges you to screw off.” 

“Oh.” Ty Lee was trying the moon walk as well. Her effort was a little better than Sokka’s, but still terrible. Zuko scowled. “Maybe I just have more to care about than Ty Lee and Sokka.” 

“Ty Lee cares. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be flirting with every guy who gives her the time of day. She’d be flirting with Azula.” 

Zuko looked at Mai, slack jawed. “What!?” 

Mai rolled her eyes. “You’re so unobservant.” 

“How long—“ 

“Since they met. It’s so obvious, you and Azula are the only ones who haven’t picked up on it.” 

Zuko blinked. “Wow, uh… Ok.” 

“If Azula didn’t care, she would cut the little miss perfect act and chew out your dad for everything he's done to both of you. Especially you.” 

Zuko crossed his arms. “I doubt that.” 

Mai shrugged. “If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t sit with us every lunch period.” She jutted her chin in the direction of Sokka. “You’d sit with them.”

Zuko looked back at Sokka and Ty Lee. Aang, Katara, and Toph had joined them. Sokka was still trying and failing at the moon walk. Aang was able to do it flawlessly with the help of air bending, which instantly had Sokka in his face accusing him of cheating. Katara was laughing and Toph had her arms crossed, but she was smiling. Mai was wrong; they did care. Every movement they made was fused with care, but it was a care pointed in a different direction. Instead of caring what others thought, they just cared about each other. 

“Dad wants us,” Azula said, seeming to appear out of nowhere. All of the charm she was sporting in the earth kingdom had vanished. Her eyes were sharp and cold. 

Zuko took a breath. “Okay.” 

Zuko and Azula made their way through the crowd, nodding at some of the more important partygoers as they went. Zuko noticed the eyes that lingered a little longer on his face than usual. He held his chin high and walked tall, though his insides were knotted in anxiety. 

They found their father in a back room shielded by a large blue curtain, where the other masters mingled somewhat awkwardly. Arnook was with his daughter Yue, Gyasto stood next to another monk, and Bumi was running a hand down the hairy side of his pet Flopsie. Why he couldn’t have left the giant goat gorilla in the sandpit with the avatar's bison, Zuko didn’t know. 

Ozai looked at Zuko like he would prefer the company of a giant goat gorilla over his. “I need you at the house at six tomorrow morning.” He spoke in a dry voice. “We are going to a fundraiser at Wan Shi Tong’s library.” 

Zuko nodded. 

A stout main dressed in blue shuffled in. “Right then, is everyone ready for the photo op?” Some grumbling consensus among the masters entailed they were ready. “Good, good. Bumi, you stay where you are, Gyasto, step on the other side of Bumi, Arnook and Yue, can you step forward a bit? And Ozai, can your children switch places on either side of you? Here, like this.” 

The man grabbed Zuko’s shoulders and shuffled him to the right with surprising force. He tripped and clumsily attempted to recover, which landed him on his ankle. It took every ounce of willpower Zuko possessed to keep from yelping in pain as it twisted painfully in a direction it wasn’t meant to be. Ozai grabbed him by the back of his suit jacket before he could fall down completely and pulled him upright. 

“Get it together,” he growled in Zuko’s ear, straightening when the sides of the curtain parted. The party erupted into applause as the newly re-elected masters waved and smiled. Zuko grit his teeth behind a close-mouthed smile, trying his best to stand up straight with his ankle throbbing beneath him. With all the abuse allegations floating around, the last thing Ozai needed was for Zuko to be nurturing an injury on stage. 

The majority of the camera flashes were angled towards Zuko and Ozai, which was predictable. Zuko’s eyes took a moment to adjust with all the flashes muddying his vision. He was just able to make out Sokka and Ty Lee, standing beside the rest of their gang. Sokka was looking right at him with an unreadable expression. Zuko looked away, finding a new patch of cameras to grin towards. 

When the photo op was done, Zuko ducked behind Azula and hobbled to the nearest table. He figured he would stay sitting until the party was over. That would give his ankle enough time to rest and hopefully be able to carry him the short distance from this party to his Dad’s car. The paps took a few pictures of him sitting, but there were only so many angles they could photograph. Eventually they ditched him for Bumi, who had mounted Flopsie and was bounding in circles around the party. 

“Hey.” 

A cannon of adrenaline fired in Zuko’s chest as Sokka placed a plate full of food on the table and sat in the empty chair beside him. 

Zuko swallowed hard. “Hi.” 

Sokka awkwardly touched the back of his neck. “Nice party.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Very loud.” 

“And sparkly.” Zuko made a gesture to the glittering ice walls. Sokka looked them over and nodded in feeble agreement. 

“I, uh… I brought you some food.” Sokka pushed the plate towards Zuko. “I, uh, I noticed that you didn’t eat much at the Beifong’s. Which is ok! Earth kingdom food isn’t for everyone. I just thought, y’know, you must be hungry and all that.” 

Zuko was hungry, he regarded with slight surprise. He had been too nervous to eat at the Beifong’s, but something about Sokka offering the food made him less nervous, which was weird because he had been nervous at the Beifong’s in the first place because Sokka was there. He decided not to question it and accepted the plate. 

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Zuko dug into the plate. Sokka looked around the party a few times, whistling softly to himself. 

“Where’s Ty Lee?” Zuko asked. 

“Freshening up.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah.”

Another awkward silence preceded. Sokka cleared his throat. “Hey, is your foot ok?” 

Zuko looked up from his plate, alarmed. “My limp was obvious?” 

“No! Not unless you were looking for it. I… I mean, I wasn’t looking for it or anything, I was just looking at you… Woah, I mean uh, that came out weird, I was just—“ 

“I tripped backstage,” Zuko cut Sokka off with perhaps too much defensiveness. “That’s why I’m limping. I tripped and twisted my ankle.” 

“Oh.” 

“That’s what happened.” 

“Alright.” 

“It’s really what happened!” 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t!” Sokka held up his hands as though surrendering. 

Zuko looked down at his plate. “Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s been a long day.” 

“I’d imagine.” Sokka was watching Zuko a little too carefully. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“My ankle is fine.” 

“I’m not talking about your--”

“I’m fine!” 

“Alright, alright, sorry.” Sokka touched the back of his neck again. “You’ve probably got closer friends to talk to about this stuff, huh?” Zuko kept his gaze fixed on the blue tablecloth. Sokka wouldn’t take his eyes off of his face, which drove him insane for a reason he couldn’t name. “You… You do have friends, right?”

“What do you want from me!?”

“I’m just worried about you--”

“Well stop being worried about me! You barely know me!” Zuko didn’t mean for it to come out in a yell, but he did. He looked back at his plate, waiting to hear the chair scoot out and watch Sokka walk away from the corner of his eye. He didn’t.

“Well, let’s change that.” Zuko blinked and looked at Sokka. He was wearing a crooked smile, sorta awkward, sorta embarrassed, sorta… 

Zuko blinked again and shook his head. “I don’t want your pity.” 

“It’s not pity! We’ve been going to school together for years, and this is the first conversation where you haven't yelled at me.” Zuko raised an eyebrow. Sokka smirked. “As much as usual, anyways. Here.” Sokka reached across the table to grab a blue napkin. He pulled a pen out of his front pocket -- why he had a pen with him, Zuko didn’t know -- and scribbled something down. He capped the pen and handed the napkin to Zuko, smiling. “In case you wanna yell at me less than usual some other time.” 

It was a number. Sokka’s number. Scribbled horizontally from one corner of the napkin to the other. Zuko didn’t understand why his heart fluttered, or why two patches of red gathered in his cheeks. 

Zuko looked back up at Sokka, who was looking across the room. Ty Lee had emerged from the bathroom and was making her way through the crowd. 

“Well, I gotta go, can’t leave my date alone on the dance floor. Later!” 

As soon as Sokka had come, he was gone, leaving Zuko with a napkin in his hands and a pounding in his chest. 

The rest of the party was fun. Sokka danced with Ty Lee until she had to go. Then, he danced with his friends, and as nice as Ty Lee was, that was the best part. He and Aang made fools out of themselves in a dance battle. Katara refused to be the judge, saying they looked equally ridiculous. Toph kept insisting that _she_ thought they both looked great, which got them every time. 

The party was winding down by the time they all agreed to head back. Ozai and Gyasto had already left with their guests, and Bumi was eyeing the door. Sokka offered to stay back and help tidy up a little bit while Aang, Katara, and Toph went to bring Appa out front. 

As Sokka folded chairs and picked up plastic dishes, he thought about Zuko. He wondered if he would reach out. Sokka couldn’t quite explain why he had given Zuko his number, other than it seemed the right thing to do at the time. And he was worried. But everyone with half a moral compass was worried about Zuko right now, so that wasn’t weird. Nothing about the night was as weird as Sokka thought it would be, other than Bumi bringing a goat gorilla as his date. 

When Sokka stepped into the cold night air, Appa wasn’t waiting out front. He pulled his suit jacket tighter around his body and shivered. He didn’t know how it could be colder outside than it was in the giant ice castle, but it was. 

Sokka waited for five minutes that felt like ten before making the trek around the ice castle towards the sand pit. They all probably got hung up playing with the other transportation animals. Sokka swore that without his own leadership, his gang wouldn’t get anywhere. Hence why he always carried a pen around; he never knew when he would need to spell out the details to some plan for his friends to understand what he was saying, or sketch out their face in a missing persons poster in case one of them wandered off. 

Sokka realized as he rounded the bend that there was sand in the grass. The sandpit wasn’t too near where he stood, not near enough to scatter as much sand as Sokka stood on. It could be the wind, but it was a fairly still night. A bad feeling accumulated in Sokka’s stomach. He sped up. The closer he got to the sandpit, the more sand he walked on. Something had blown at least half of the sandpit away. Or someone. 

Sokka was running by the time he got to the sandpit. The wooden walls were blown clean off with a ruination that could only be explained by a tornado sweeping through while Sokka was cleaning up, or airbending. A chill swept Sokka’s spine. Aang had done this. 

Party guests were gathered a nosey distance away, pointing and gossiping. Sokka pushed past them. In the center of it all, Aang was crumpled into Katara’s chest, his shoulders shaking. 

“What happened!?” Sokka looked around. He knew Aang was a talented bender, but this wasn’t what he used his gifts for. He had done this out of panic or anger or something that wasn’t his right mind. This wasn’t Aang. This was destruction. 

Sokka’s eyes found Toph. She was standing in the center of a half destroyed stall, a stall big enough to have fit Appa when it had it’s wall intact. Except Appa wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. 

Sokka looked at Toph. He looked at Katara. He looked at Aang, crying in her arms. He didn't, couldn’t, look at Appa. Appa wasn’t there. 

Appa was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [p'ol 
> 
> That was a message from my cat, please appreciate him 
> 
> Also yes the moonwalk being in this story does in fact imply that in this universe there once was a Michael Jackson and personally I think he would be an airbender but I'm open to other opinions 
> 
> Thank you guys again for your comments and kudos!! I love reading comments sm thank you for leaving them!!


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko was peppered with questions when he limped through the Jasmine Dragon door. It took a solid fifteen minutes of retelling the story before Uncle was able to believe that Zuko had actually gotten hurt from tripping and not from something or someone else. He brewed some restorative tea, which Zuko drank before falling into a dreamless six hours of sleep. 

His alarm shook him awake at 5AM sharp. He allowed his body five sleepy breaths before sitting up and rummaging for the neat little outfit his father had sent him with after the party. His ankle still throbbed with every step. He washed down some fresh scones with almost three more cups of restorative tea before Ozai’s staff member was knocking on the door. 

Zuko limped through the back door to his father’s house just fifteen minutes before six. Zhao and Ozai were both stationed by the front door. 

“Why are you limping?” Zhao sounded genuinely concerned, though Zuko could assume it was less about his own wellbeing and more about the wellbeing of Ozai’s image.

“I twisted my ankle.” 

“When?” 

“Yesterday at the party.” 

“You did?” Ozai sounded surprised. 

Zuko decided against reminding his father that it had happened when he was standing right next to him. “Yes.” 

The two men looked at each other. 

“We’ll have him sitting,” Zhao said after a moment. 

Ozai brightened. “Yes, studying.” 

“In a study room. With his back facing the cameras.” 

“Perfect.” Ozai looked around. “Where’s Azula?” 

“I’m here.” Azula floated down the excessively large staircase in an outfit that matched Zuko’s. It looked better on her, less awkward and preppy. All of the stupid outfits their father made them wear looked better on Azula. 

“Alright,” Zhao said, clapping his hands together and smiling at Zuko and Azula in that way he did when he was about to try and make bad news sound good. “We need you kids to make an appearance at the library. Just a little photo op. We’ll have drivers out front, you can head back once you’ve been in the library for, let’s say, fifteen minutes? Give or take?” 

“So we’re making a five hour drive for a fifteen minuite photo op?” Azula’s voice was flat. Zuko winced. He knew the library was far, but a five hour drive with Zhao, Azula, and his father sounded next to the worst thing in the world.

Zhao kept his smile. “It’s for your father. You kids understand, don’t you? You do. Now come along.” 

The car was long and black, as the cars that drove them around often were. It had three rows of sleek leather seats, the first one for the driver, the second for Ozai and Zhao, and the third for Azula and Zuko. Ozai and Zhao immediately began talking about the fundraiser and newspapers and polls and all of the things that ebbed to white noise in the back of Zuko’s brain. He looked out the window for a few minutes, and then tentatively reached into his front pocket to pull out the napkin Sokka had given him last night. Zuko still hadn’t texted the number, or even saved it in his phone. He stared at the black ink stretching from one corner to the other. He had slipped the napkin in his pocket yesterday with hopes that he would summon the courage to text Sokka during this ride. No courage was coming. He just sat there, staring at the napkin, replaying the moment when Sokka had handed it to him. 

Azula turned to Zuko about ten minutes in. 

“I’m bored,” she said. “What’ve you got there?” She snatched the napkin from Zuko’s hand. The damage had already been done in the two seconds it took him to snatch it back. “Whose number is that?” 

“That’s none of your business!”

“Come on, Zuzu.” Azula rolled her eyes. “Let’s cut the crap. We hate each other right now, but we’re also stuck in a car for five hours. Let me help you with your social life. God knows you need it, and I have nothing better to do.” 

She was right. Zuko couldn’t deny that Azula was, and always had been, a better people person than him. It was annoying, but it was true. 

“It’s Sokka. He gave me his number last night.” 

Azula raised an eyebrow. “Ok… Why not just start with hello?” 

“That’s not weird?” 

“No, dummy. He gave you his number. He’s expecting to hear from you.” 

Again, she was right. Zuko hated how good she was at this. 

Zuko entered the number and sent _Hello_. 

“He’s not going to know who it is,” Zuko worried aloud. He typed out _Zuko here_ and sent it before Azula could say anything. 

Azula leaned over. “What did you send?” Zuko showed her the text. A slow smile crept across her painted lips. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Is it bad?” 

“No, no. It’s very informative. How else is he doing to know who is here?” 

“Shut up!” Zuko crossed his arms and resigned himself to glaring out the window. 

Fifteen slow minutes bled into a torturous half hour. No response. 

“You did this on purpose,” Zuko snarled. Azula took out one earbud. 

“Hm?” 

“He’s ignoring me. You made me text him so I would make a fool out of myself!” 

“It’s 7:30. He’s probably still sleeping.” Azula yawned. “Give it an hour before you start overreacting.” 

For a third time, she was right. Zuko leaned against the window. He tried to think about the terrain changes as they traveled. He tried to pay attention to what his father and Zhao were talking about. He tried to do anything but obsess over Sokka and his stupid text messages. 

At 8:46, Zuko’s phone lit up. Sokka had sent one word in response: “ _sup_ ”. 

Zuko jammed the phone in Azula’s face, startling her awake from a nap. “He wants nothing to do with me.” 

Azula took the phone. “What?” 

“He couldn’t even be bothered to write out ‘what’s up.’ He couldn’t even capitalize the first letter. It’s insulting. He put in minimum effort on purpose, to show me how little he cares about me.” 

“I’m really surprised you’ve never broken a bone, you know, with all of the jumping to conclusions that you do.” 

“He hates me! It’s obvious!” 

“It’s not! Look, just… here.” Azula started typing. Zuko reached for his phone, panicked. 

“What are you saying? What are you saying!?” 

“Calm down, I’m not going to send anything! Here.” 

The words _How’s your day going?_ was typed out in the message box. Zuko uncapitalized the H — because two can play at whatever little game Sokka was playing — and hit send. 

Thirteen and a half minutes later, a response popped up: “ _meh_ ”. 

Azula smiled when she saw the response. “I told you he doesn’t hate you.” 

Zuko blinked at the text, checking to see if she was reading something more than he was. “What?” 

“Meh means bad. Very very bad. People don’t write out long text messages when they’re having a bad day. They usually don’t reply at all, so if anything, this text is proof that he likes you.” 

Zuko all but gaped at her. “You got all that from ‘meh’?” 

“Yes.”

“How do you know all of this stuff?” 

“I know everything, Zuzu.” Zuko raised an eyebrow. Azula scowled. "Fine. Ty Lee taught me. Now shut up and let me nap."

The conversation about Ty Lee that Zuko had with Mai last night replayed in his head. Looking at the situation through enlightened eyes, Zuko had no idea how his clever sister hadn't caught on. Or maybe she knew and she was using Ty Lee's feelings to as leverage for deeper manipulation. It sounded like something she would do, but Zuko had a gut feeling that Azula was as in the dark as he had been. He decided that now wasn't the right time to bring that up, and let Azula return to her nap.

Zuko was grateful when his father requested they pull over at the next rest stop. Those three glasses of tea weren’t doing him any favors. He was squirming like a child on caffeine by the time they pulled up to a strange, stone shaped building in the middle of the sandy terrain. 

The entrance to the building looked like the mouth of a cave from a distance. Zuko and his father looked at each other briefly before making their way forward. Ozai’s walk was quick and efficient. Zuko limped as fast as he could to keep pace. 

The sandy hallway led them to a set of dark wooden doors. Ozai knocked once, waited a hair under thirty seconds, and knocked again. A gruff looking man dressed in tan opened the door. He looked from Ozai to Zuko. “Is this boy a pupil?” 

“What?” 

“Is this boy a pupil enrolled in the academy?” 

“We’re just looking for a restroom.” Ozai smiled with all his teeth. “I’m the firelord.” 

The man’s expression didn’t change. “There’s a restroom in the basement.” He walked away without further instruction. 

Zuko followed his father down a sand-covered set of winding stairs. He glanced around the dimly lit hallways. There were posters taped among the tiles that displayed set by set techniques for sandbending. 

“Is this a sandbending school?” 

“It’s a sandbending training academy.” Ozai didn’t look back, and didn’t slow down. 

“So… A sandbending school?” 

“A training academy isn’t the same thing as a school. It only teaches bending. Your sister knows the difference, you should too.” 

Zuko drooped. “I’m sorry.” 

The staircase kept going deeper and deeper into the ground. Zuko paused on either the fifth or sixth level down. “This looks like a basement,” he said, looking around. The only other set of stairs looked dug out, as though the ones they had just descended were meant to be the last level down. 

“The basement is the _base_ level, Zuko,” Ozai snapped. “Hurry up. You’re wasting time.” 

The last set of stairs felt to be entirely made out of sand. The lights faded as Ozai and Zuko made their way down. The air felt colder. Zuko knew they had gone too far when stairs changed to a ramp and they started trekking upwards, but he didn’t say anything. Ozai kept a stubborn pace as he walked ahead.

The ramp led them to a wooden door that rattled with laughter. Ozai knocked. No response. He knocked again and checked his watch. No response. With a groan and a brief look over his shoulder, Ozai pushed open the door. 

Hot desert air hit Zuko’s face. He limped after his father into a fenced enclosure, half concealed by a jut in the building’s bumpy architecture. There were half a dozen boys dressed in tan who sprung into battle stances when the door was thrown open, but that wasn’t what Zuko was paying attention to. 

The avatar’s bison was chained to a fence. 

Appa’s huge mouth was pressed into a muzzle, and his six legs were bound together in shackles. A chain wrapped from his neck to the corner of the fence. Only his enormous brown eyes could move regularly. He thrashed helplessly against his bounds and attempted a roar behind the muzzle. 

“Why do you have the avatar’s bison?” Zuko started forward without really thinking. 

One of the sandbenders did the same. “Who are you? Why are you down here?” 

“This is my son, Zuko,” Ozai stepped between Zuko and the sandbender before they could stand toe to toe. “And I’m Ozai. Firelord Ozai.

The sandbender paled. “Oh, uh… Hi.”

Ozai raised an eyebrow and looked the boy up and down. “What’s your name?”

“Ghashiun.” 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m eighteen.”

“Same age as my Zuko, here.” Ozia stepped back to clap a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “A good age. Voting age. Say, where are you and your friends registered?” 

“The fire nation,” Ghashiun said. “We live here for boarding school, and we travel around a lot for work, but home is in the fire nation.” 

“You were staffed at Arnook’s party, I presume?” Ozai’s eyes fell to Appa. Ghashiun gulped and nodded. 

“This is the avatar’s bison,” Zuko said. “They stole him.” 

Ozai took a moment before speaking. “Well, I suppose the avatar should have kept a closer eye on his bison.” He winked and turned back to the door, leaving Ghashiun and his friends smiling behind him. “Come along, Zuko.” 

“But--”

“I said come along, Zuko.” 

Zuko looked over his shoulder at Appa before following his father back into the staircase. “What are you doing? They’re thieves, we have to do something!”

“They are voters, Zuko. We need their support.” 

“But that bison belongs to the avatar!” 

“If he really cared, he should have kept a closer eye on it.”

“He does care! He only left Appa with them because it was their job to look after the transportation animals!” 

Ozai just shrugged and continued forward. 

“You have to do something,” Zuko pressed. “If this got out, if people found out you knew about this and--”

Ozai whipped around and grabbed Zuko by the collar, nearly lifting him off the ground. “It’s not going to get out, because we’re going to keep our mouths shut. The last thing we need right now is _another_ scandal.” He released Zuko with such aggression it almost sent him tumbling down the stairs. “This is politics, Zuko. If you bothered to read the news, you would see that we were polling low with sandbenders. Stop being an idiot and see this as the good thing it is.” 

This explained Sokka’s bad mood, Zuko thought to himself as he followed Ozai from the bathroom to the car. Aang was definitely freaking out. He loved that bison with his whole being. He must be devastated. They all must be devastated. It bothered Zuko to think of them devastated. To think of Sokka devastated. 

“We have a bit of a situation,” Zhao said when Zuko and Ozai slipped back into the car. He had a computer opened on his lap. It was streaming a video of a masked crowd holding slabs of meat over one of their eyes. 

Ozai squinted at it. “Is this one of those animal rights protests?” 

“No, it’s that Freedom Fighters magazine. They’re protesting against you. The meat is supposed to represent… Um…” Zhao’s eyes fell to Zuko. “...Yeah.” 

Zuko’s cheeks reddened, and his hand flew to his scar in a self conscious manner. 

“Well, that’s really mature.” Ozai muttered. “Are they outside of the library?”

“I’m afraid so. I was able to arrange for us to be let in through the back.” 

Azula leaned towards Zuko and spoke in a whisper. “You should have seen Zhao when he started the livestream. Do you remember Jet? The angry kid who did that sit-in protest during take your kids to work day?” Zuko nodded, still touching his scar. Did those people really think that it looked so ugly it was comparable to a slab of meat? Zuko hated it too, but come on, that was a little harsh. 

“He’s wearing a blue mask and a black outfit,” Azula continued, “and his hair kind of does that floppy thing in the back that yours does. At first glance, Zhao thought it was you.”

Zuko’s insecurity-fueled freakout was put on pause. “Jet is running the protest?”

“I don’t know about running, but he’s there.”

“And Zhao mistook him for me?”

“Yes, and it was hilarious. You should have seen his face.” Azula laughed. “Now that would be a scandal.” 

“It would,” Zuko said, softly and more to himself than to Azula. He had a fraction of a plan. That fraction had formed into a whole by the time they pulled up to the back of the library and were escorted inside by a bookish man with a long braid down his back. 

After a few photographs with Zuko and Azula under each of his arms, Ozai left to be seen with rich-looking people and studious-looking children. Zuko was put in a study room with his back facing the cameras, as Zhao and Ozai had decided earlier. Azula sat across from him. 

“There are drivers out front, they’ll take you wherever you want,” Zhao said, looking around. “Stay for fifteen, and then you’re free to go. I’m getting out of here, that owl librarian gives me the creeps.” 

Zuko and Azula sat in stiff silence for almost fifteen minutes to the dot. Azula started packing up a few minutes beforehand. 

“You coming?” She asked over her shoulder. 

“Not yet. I’m in a flow with studying.”

“Okay.” 

Zuko’s heart pounded in his ears as Azula started to walk away. He had decided to put this possibly dangerous and definitely stupid plan into action when she was gone. Maybe it was procrastination that made him call her back. 

“Azula, wait.” He turned in his chair to face her. “Ty Lee likes you.” 

Azula froze in the doorway. She turned her head halfway. There was anger lighting the bit of her face Zuko could see. 

“I told you,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t on the phone with her. It was a toy phone.” 

“No, I mean she has feelings for you.” 

The fire left Azula’s face. “What?” 

“She has since you guys met.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Mai.” 

“Oh.” Azula stood in silence for a moment longer. She opened her mouth and closed it, and then opened it again. “Oh,” she repeated softly. She walked away. 

Once he was sure she was gone, Zuko tore a piece of scrap paper from a notebook and grabbed an ink pen. He looked over his shoulder before scribbling _meet me behind the library if you want a real story_. When one of the library’s fox staff members swept through the study room with that polite cacine helpfulness about him, Zuko knelt down and handed him the note. 

“Take this to Jet,” he said slowly, feeling a bit stupid. “He’s, uh, he’s out front. He’s wearing a blue mask.” The fox seemed to understand, though Zuko couldn’t know that for a fact. He took the note and bounded away. 

Sneaking out of the library without being seen was easier than Zuko thought it would be. Some social media influencer was yelling at some campaign director in the poetry isle, and most of the guests were hovering around them pretending not to be listening. Zuko limped from the study room to the back door they had been escorted into. There was no telling if Jet would receive the note, or show up even if he did. This plan had so many holes it would be a miracle if even half of it went right. But Zuko was committed; it was too late to back out. All he could do was wait. The sun was beginning it’s slip below the horizon of tan, touching everything below with rich hues of orange and gold. Zuko leaned against the sandy bricks and faced the endless desert sky. 

“Are you the guy who’s got a story for me?” 

Jet’s voice was every bit as obnoxious as Zuko had remembered. He took a breath before turning around, glaring as he did so. “Hello Jet.” 

Jet’s dark eyes widened behind his mask. He yanked it off his face. “Zuko?” He gawked. “You have a story for me?” 

“You’re only getting it if you do me a favor first.” Zuko tried to hide his limp as he walked towards Jet. He didn’t want to seem in any way damaged or breakable right now. 

Jet crossed his arms, recovering quickly from his initial shock. “What’s the favor?” 

“I need you to switch outfits with me and sit in a study room. And I need your mask.” 

Jet blinked. “What?” 

“I need an alibi, and you’re going to help me with that. You’re going to be photographed as me when it happens. Then they’ll know it wasn’t me, because I was here.” 

“What are you talking about? When what happens?” 

Zuko took a breath. “The avatar’s bison was stolen. He’s being held at a sandbending training academy. I’m going to sneak out and release him, and then I’m going to do an interview with you for your magazine. I’ll tell you all about how my father saw the bison tied up, and how he turned his back.” 

Jet’s eyes lit like black stars. “The firelord’s son leaking information about him? Quite a scandal.” 

Zuko shook his head. “I’m going to be wearing your mask. Nobody can know your source is me.” 

“It would be a bigger story if I leaked it was you.” 

“Well, you can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’ll deny it. The Freedom Fighters will be dismissed as a petty gossip site.” 

Jet raised an eyebrow and reached into his pocket. He dug out a recording device, no bigger than a sticky note. 

Zuko clenched his fists, trying to guise the panic with anger. “You can’t.” 

“Can you offer me something better?” Jet ran a thumb over top of the little gray device. Zuko wanted to burn it to ash and then do the same thing to Jet. “Better decide quickly, I have a protest to get back to, and possibly a story to write.” 

Zuko begged his scattered mind to work. He needed to do something — anything — to stop Jet from leaking that tape. He could still feel his father’s hand on the collar of his shirt, still hear his gravelly voice. _The last thing we need right now is another scandal._ But the only thing Jet wanted was a scandal. Zuko needed to find a way to replace this scandal with a different scandal that was both worth writing about and wouldn’t get him killed on sight. 

“I can be a mole,” Zuko blurted without really thinking. “I know everything my father has done. Every shady deal and cheap scam. If you leak that now, I’ll never talk to you again. If you help me with this, I’ll give you a new story every week. My only condition is that nobody finds out it’s me.” 

Jet tilted his head to the side. He held up the mask and removed the slice of meat he had taped over one of the eye sockets. It was blue, with white facial features and an eerie smile. 

“It could be the Freedom Fighter’s big break. A new column: The Blue Spirit, scourge of the fire nation.” 

“The Blue Spirit?”

“It’s the name that came on the box for the mask.” 

Zuko shifted. He had just planned on rescuing Appa, not becoming a blue spirit or a spirit of any color. But if Jet wasn’t offered a better alternative, he was going to leak that recording. So, he nodded. 

“The Blue Spirit it is.” 

Jet tutted. “This is quite a risk you’re taking. What’s in it for you?” 

“Well, you’re blackmailing me for starters,” Zuko said, choosing to ignore the fact that Sokka’s face had popped into his head when Jet asked the question. “And I, uh… I care about animal rights.” 

Jet shrugged. “So I’m just supposed to sit with my back facing the cameras?” 

“Pretend to be studying.” 

“What if someone tries to talk to me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Jet snickered. “Really thought out plan you’ve got here. What are you going to do after you free the bison?” 

”If I make it that far, I’ll fly to the air temple. You need to be there before me if you want that interview.” 

“When will you get there?” 

“Well, I have to figure out how to fly a ten ton sky bison, so I’d say you’ll have enough time to stop for lunch.” Zuko held out a hand “Do we have a deal?” 

Jet looked from Zuko to his mask, a slow smile making its way across his lips. He clasped Zuko’s hand in a strong shake. 

“We sure do, Blue Spirit.” 

“There!” Sokka resecured the four corners of the missing bison poster on a wooden telephone pole. “Those are all the copies. Every person in the four nations is gonna be keeping an eye out for Appa.” Sokka yawned and rolled his shoulders back. “Good deeds make me hungry. You down for some dinner?” 

“Absolutely,” Toph grumbled. “I sure worked up an appetite holding the posters and following you around all day.” 

Sokka smirked. “Don’t feel bad, I’m a naturally fast walker. It’s the leader in me, I always have to be in the front of the group. Come’on, I think I saw a truck that sells meat down the block.” Sokka pretended not to notice Toph’s groan as he marched ahead. 

After a brief argument about where the truck was parked and a short line, Toph and Sokka were sitting on a street curb with paper plates in their laps. They both wolfed down chicken wings and slabs of bacon with the vigor of proper savages. 

“It’s nice not having Katara yell at us to stop eating like cavemen.” Toph spoke with her mouth partially full. 

Sokka hummed a blissful “Mmmmhmmm” in agreement. “She hasn’t left Aang’s side since the night of the party.” 

Toph set a bone stripped of meat down on her plate. “Do you think he’ll turn up? Appa, I mean.” 

Sokka heard Katara’s voice in his ears from the night before. “I know you think optimism is another form of lying, but I really need you to at least pretend to be optimistic right now,” she had whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the couch where Aang laid wrapped in a blanket. “He needs hope. We all do.”

Sokka ripped off a bite of jerky. “I mean, he’s a giant flying bison. It’s not like whoever took him is gonna be able to hide him for long. He’ll be fine.”

“That’s true,” Toph agreed, though she didn’t sound too soothed. 

“Look, all we can do is try to help and be there for Aang. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it.” It was as optimistic as Sokka was willing to go. 

“I guess you’re right.” Toph was quiet for a moment before punching Sokka hard in the arm. “Thanks, Sokka.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Sokka said through gritted teeth, running a hand over the spot she had punched. She really was freakishly strong for her size. Then again, she was the best earthbender Sokka knew, so her strength made sense. 

Sokka discarded the empty plates in a curbside trash can and was walking back over to Toph when his phone started buzzing. Katara was calling him. Sokka answered with one hand and helped Toph to her feet with the other. 

“Yeah?” 

“Sokka!” Loud laughter and bellowing roars from the background almost drowned out Katara’s voice. “Have you seen the news?” 

“No,” Sokka spoke through a smile, nudging Toph gently. “Sounds like you found Appa?” 

“We didn’t find him, he was brought to us! Go check the news, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen — Aang, Aang be careful! Sokka, come to the air temple, okay? Wait, Momo, Momo don’t—“ 

The line clicked to an end. “Well, Appa is back.” Sokka waved over a taxi and helped Toph inside. “We’ve been summoned to the air temple.” 

“Alright!” Toph whooped. “Finally, twinkle toes will stop being all mopey.” She rested her head against the glass window and closed her eyes. Though she wouldn’t admit it, she had been concerned. Concerned for Appa, but mostly concerned for Aang. Sokka could tell. He decided to let her rest and pulled out his phone instead of striking conversation.

Sokka opened the news app, and fought the urge to close it immediately. The trending article was from the Freedom Fighters. That news outlet had left a sour taste in Sokka’s mouth after the whole Zuko incident, but it was trending and the thumbnail picture was of Appa, so he begrudgingly clicked on it. 

Sokka scrolled and scanned. The just of the story explained that about fifteen minutes ago, some stranger in a blue mask had heroically swooped into the air temple on Appa’s back. In a follow up interview they leaked that firelord Ozai had actually seen Appa tied up at some sandbending academy, and had walked away. Apparently, they promised to continue exposing the wrongdoings of the firelord. Hence all of the buzz being generated by the internet. The Freedom Fighters had already come up with a name: The Blue Spirit. It was trending on multiple social media sites. 

Sokka clicked a video, trying to find footage of the interview. All the videos just showed Appa flying in, the Blue Spirit jumping off his back and walking towards a car with a reporter, and Aang jumping onto Appa’s forehead. Sokka watched a few more times before realizing that the reporter was Jet. Gross.

Sokka assumed the interview had been conducted with Jet in the car. If the Blue Spirit’s voice was on tape, it would only be a matter of time before the public figured out who they were. Anyone who had information on the firelord probably lived in close proximity to him. It was someone Ozai trusted. What a risk. A cool risk, but still a risk. Sokka didn’t like to think about what Ozai would do if he found the identity of a mole in his system. 

It was on the fourth watchthrough that Sokka noticed something about the Blue Spirit. 

When the masked stranger jumped off Appa, they made a point to throw the majority of their weight to only one leg. They then walked behind Jet in a way that looked a little purposeful, and when Jet opened the car door, they only used only one leg to push themself inside and carefully pulled the other in afterwards. Sokka rewinded and watched again. Yup, the Blue Spirit’s Foot was definitely hurt. 

Sokka’s heart rate picked up. He squinted at the video. It was the left foot that they were staying off of. Sokka opened a new tab and looked up pictures of the party last night. He scrolled through headline after headline about Bumi and Flopsie before finding a few shots of Ozai with Azula and Zuko. Sokka zoomed in on Zuko’s fancy dress shoes. He was standing with his weight pretty evenly distributed in most photos, but there was one when he was leaning towards the side, as if trying to stay off his foot. 

His left foot. 

That wasn’t enough proof, Sokka told himself. He scrolled through photograph after photograph of the party. The taxi had almost reached the air temple and Toph was snoring loudly by the time Sokka found footage of the firelord walking out of the castle with his children. He turned his volume down so he wouldn’t wake Toph before pressing play.

The videographer was hurdling questions at them, which they ignored as they made their way to the black car parked on the curb. “How was the party? Zuko, did you have fun? Azula, who are you wearing? Ozai, is it true you’re renovating your kitchen?” 

A door was opened for Ozai to get in the front. Azula walked around to the other side. Then, a door was opened for Zuko. Sokka’s stomach dropped as he watched Zuko use only one leg to push himself in. He carefully pulled the other leg in afterwards. 

His left leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suuuup this is a long chapter and mostly from Zuko's POV so I'll do more Sokka next time!!
> 
> Hope everyone's doing well, as always kudos are appreciated and comments are read and adored.


	5. Chapter 5

Katara’s Monday morning alarm went off at 6:45. She sat up, yawned, stretched, rubbed her eyes, and screamed. Sokka was perched on the foot of her bed. He had been watching her sleep for the past five minutes.

“Look, you can see it better in this video!” He shoved his phone in Katara’s face. She pushed it away. 

“Sokka!”

“He’s limping! Look!” 

Katara rolled her eyes and took the phone. It was another video of the Blue Spirit, though the camera was shaking too much to properly see him or much of anything. 

“I don’t see a limp.” 

“Look!” Sokka paused the video and zoomed in on a blurry clump. “He’s angled behind Jet so it's hard to tell, but watch his feet.” Sokka played the video. “See! He’s limping!” 

“Ok, so he’s limping! Just because he and Zuko both had limps on the same day doesn’t mean that Zuko’s the blue spirit.” 

“It’s not just that! Zuko was near Appa when it happened, the sandbending academy is only a thirty minute drive from the fundraiser at--”

“Won Shu Tong’s library, I know. You’ve talked about this all weekend, can you give it a rest?” Katara scooted out of bed and dragged her feet on the way to her dresser. Sokka stood and paced her spotless bedroom floor. 

“Don’t you get it? Zuko’s in trouble. I mean, it’s cool that he wants to stand up to his dad and all that. It’s really cool. Cool and brave and pretty admirable... But we all saw what happened when Zuko spoke out of turn. Speaking out of turn! That’s practically nothing! I speak out of turn all the time!” 

“No kidding.”

“Half of his face burnt to a crisp for speaking out of turn. Imagine what Ozai would do if he found out that his son was trending as the fire nation’s biggest enemy! He'll probably kill him!” 

“It’s not Zuko!” Katara walked past Sokka and headed for the bathroom. Sokka followed and continued talking through the door when she closed it in his face. 

“Look, you know I’m all about facts and reason. I don’t believe in all of that voodoo-horoscope-magic-fortune-telling crap that you and Aang are always eating up.”

“Aang and I got our palms read _one_ time at a fair, Sokka--” 

“But right now, I just have this gut feeling. Call it an instinct.” 

Katara groaned as she flung open the door, nearly hitting Sokka in the forehead. “There are pictures of Zuko studying in the library while the Blue Spirit was recusing Appa. Can your instinct explain that?”

“Those pictures feel weird. It’s just the back of his head, it could be someone in a wig, or someone with his same hairstyle. And how do we know when those pictures were taken?”

“There’s a time stamp on them.”

“It could be edited!” Sokka followed Katara down the stairs and into the kitchen. “And we don’t know the exact time the Blue Spirit got to Appa. Everyone is basing everything off of estimates. They say it takes _around_ six hours to get from the desert to the air temple, but Appa’s a decently fast flyer when he wants to be, and he was probably all amped up on adrenaline after being bison-napped.”

“He’s still talking about this?” Hakoda spoke from behind a mug of coffee. Katara nodded miserably. 

Sokka grabbed a box of poptarts. “The pictures of Zuko were supposedly taken at 2:37, and Appa landed in the air temple at 9:52. That leaves so much wiggle room! Do you want one?” Sokka held two poptarts up in offering. Katara nodded. He stuck them in the toaster. “And I know the sandbenders said in their testimonies that the Blue Spirit was seen flying away on Appa’s back at 2:35, but why are we trusting them? They’re the ones who stole Appa in the first place!” 

“It’s too early for this,” Katara groaned. Hakoda offered her a mug for coffee. 

“I know I’m right. I’ll prove it.”

“The whole point of the Blue Spirit is that the identity is a mystery. Even if it was Zuko, which it isn’t, he wouldn’t tell you if you asked.”

“I’m not going to ask. I’m going to catch him in the act.”

“What act?”

“I don’t know, the act of blue-spiriting. I’ll think of something.” 

“Can you think of something else to talk about? Please?”

Sokka didn’t. He talked about it all through breakfast. He was still talking about it when he and Katara climbed onto Appa’s saddle. 

“Whatcha talking about?” Aang asked over his shoulder. He gave Appa’s reins a gentle shake and said “Yip yip!” 

Katara leaned against the side of the saddle and crossed her arms. “Please don’t get him started.” 

“Zuko is the Blue Spirit!” 

“And, you got him started…” 

Toph smirked. “That’d be kinda cool. If I were a crooked politician’s kid, I’d do the same thing.” 

Aang frowned, his brows furrowed. “Weren’t there pictures of Zuko taken when the sandbenders said they saw the Blue Spirit flying away?” 

Katara pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is my life now, isn’t it?”

“They were pictures of the back of his head!” Sokka gestured wildly as he spoke. “That’s the exact angle you’d want to be shot from if you were trying to hide something!” 

“So what are you going to do?” Toph sat up. “Are you going to ask him? Can I come? Zuko does the funniest thing with his voice when he’s surprised.” 

“He’s not going to ask him.” Katara gave her brother a very pointed look. “He’s going to catch him in the act.”

Aang climbed on the saddle, leaving Appa on auto-pilot. “The act of what?”

“The act of blue-spiriting. His words, not mine.”

“I’m going to prove this to you, Katara.” Sokka pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Today. At lunch. We’re finally putting the extra chair at our table to use.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could eat lunch outside in the barn.” Aang reached down to run a hand through Appa’s fur. “I wanna keep my eyes on Appa as much as possible.” 

“Even better!” Sokka pumped his fist. “Get him away from the big crowds. Seclude him.”

Katara scoffed. “What, are you gonna jump him?” 

“Ooo!” Toph perked up. “You’ve gotta let me come for that!” 

Sokka sent a _have lunch with us_ text before Katara could try to stop him. Zuko replied about five minutes later. _”Sure"_

__Sokka grinned. It was so on._ _

__The morning classes seemed to drag with unusual slowness. Sokka kept his eyes on the clock. He had a plan. It was probably going to make him seem weird and slightly creepy in the moment, but it would all be worth it when he proved that Zuko was the Blue Spirit._ _

__When the bell finally dismissed them for lunch, Sokka found Zuko standing with his tray by their usual table. He eyed Sokka warily. “Nobody’s here.”_ _

__“Figure that one out all by yourself, didcha?” Sokka nudged Zuko’s shoulder. He received a look that could disintegrate the four nations into a mushroom cloud of smoke. “Uh, we’re eating lunch outside today. Come’on.”_ _

__Zuko didn’t ask questions until they were standing in the doorway of the barn. “We’re eating lunch in a litter box?”_ _

__“Not a litter box this time. No sandbenders in sight.” Sokka watched Zuko carefully, looking for even a hint of reaction at the mention of sandbenders. “Just a barn.”_ _

__Katara was the one giving Sokka dangerous looks when he walked into the stall with Zuko at his side. Toph was snickering under her long bangs. Aang walked right up to them with a smile on his face._ _

__“Hi, Zuko!”_ _

__Zuko raised his hand in an awkward little wave._ _

__Appa stirred from the spot he had settled. He shuffled the short distance from the barn wall to Zuko, looked him over for a moment, roared, and then licked him so aggressively it sent him stumbling a few steps to the side. Aang’s eyebrows shot up._ _

__“Appa seems to like you.” Sokka’s voice was a notch louder than it needed to be._ _

__Katara spoke with a razors edge in her tone. “Appa likes everyone.”_ _

__Aang’s eyes traveled between Katara and Sokka. He cleared his throat. “So Zuko, what’d you bring for lunch?”_ _

__“Uh… Cafeteria food?”_ _

__“Cafeteria food! Ah-ha ha! Classic Zuko, classic Zuko.” Sokka flung an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and wiped at his eye. “I love this guy! Can’t get enough of him, I tell ya. Hey, Zuko, you should hang out with us after school! Can you do that? You don’t have any plans, do you?”_ _

__Zuko looked stricken. “...No, I don’t.”_ _

__“So it’s settled. Can you hang out today?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Can you hang out tomorrow?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Can you hang out on wednesday?”_ _

__Something changed in Zuko. A look in his eye. A jolt in his shoulders. A blip in his rhythm of calm. _Gotcha._ _ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Oh? How come?”_ _

__“I have… A thing.”_ _

__“What kind of thing?”_ _

__“You don’t have to answer that, Zuko.” Katara mouthed something rude at her brother._ _

__“Is it a personal thing? A private thing? Maybe even a secret thing?”_ _

__“Mmm, this lunch is really good!” Aang said, though he hadn’t taken a bite yet._ _

__Zuko looked at Sokka for a long moment in a way that made him think he was about to say something. Instead, he got started on his lunch. He didn’t partake in conversation much. He only really talked when he was addressed directly, but he stayed until lunch was over._ _

__As they all walked back towards the school building, Katara pulled Sokka aside._ _

__“What are you doing?”_ _

__“I told you, I have a plan.” He tried to wave her off._ _

__“He’s going to be hanging out with us after school today and tomorrow. We barely know him. You got a plan for that?”_ _

__“Of course I do!” It was a lie. Sokka had no idea what to do with Zuko after school, but he would think of something. And then, he would prove to everyone that he was the blue spirit. And then they would get Zuko out of this mess._ _

__

__Azula rarely asked for advice. She rarely needed it, though even when she did, she still usually wouldn’t ask. Maybe that’s why the night before last year’s homecoming dance stuck out so vividly in Zuko’s brain._ _

__They were at Mai’s. The credits to some cheesy love story that only Ty Lee had wanted to watch were rolling across the flat screened TV. Mai was actually asleep, and Zuko was pretending to be._ _

__Ty Lee sniffed. “Gosh, that was beautiful. Did you love it?”_ _

__Zuko heard Azula’s silken pajama set glide across her skin in a shrug. “It was fine.”_ _

__“Fine!? It was heartbreaking and emotional and perfect!”_ _

__“It wasn’t real life.”_ _

__“What do you mean?”_ _

__“It’s a movie. Nobody’s life is actually like that.”_ _

__“That’s not true! Love can be just as beautiful in real life as it is in the movies, you just have to find the right one to love.”_ _

__“It’s not just the love. It’s everything. The dialogue, the plot… Nobody can hit it off the way that they do. They just see each other and boom, it’s off to the races. That doesn’t actually happen.”_ _

__“Sure it does!”_ _

__Azula scoffed. “Maybe for you.”_ _

__“It could happen for you too! You’re the most beautiful and smart and amazing girl in the fire nation. Probably the whole world!”_ _

__( _Yeah, maybe Mai had a point about it being obvious. <\i>) __ _

___“I can never get boys… interested, you know? They always act like I’m about to do something terrible to them.” There was a pause. “How do you do it? Everyone who’s ever met you wants to see you again. You’re the girl in the movie.”_ _ _

___“It’s easy to be the girl in the movie! All you have to do is smile a lot and laugh at everything that people say, even if it’s not funny.”_ _ _

___Perhaps it was a coincidence that some meathead named Chad asked Azula to the homecoming dance the next day, but Zuko didn’t think so. Ty Lee’s stupid strategy actually worked. That was what people who wanted to reenact a love story did. A human mating dance. Or, flirting, as it was more commonly referred to._ _ _

___Whatever it was, Sokka was doing it._ _ _

___The invitation to hang out. The physical contact. The laughing at things that weren’t even meant to be funny. Zuko could see Ty Lee bouncing up and down in his head. He could hear her squealing. “He likes you! He likes you!”_ _ _

___Sokka liking him. Sokka. Liking. Him. It sent Zuko’s blood to his cheeks and his heartbeat to his ears._ _ _

___No. He was probably wrong about this whole thing. It was probably a pity invite, a pity laugh, a pity arm slung over his shoulders. What would Sokka even see in him? He basically had a hunk of meat over his eye._ _ _

____But what if it wasn’t pity?_ _ _ _

___Zuko decided not to make any assumptions. He would see how this evening went. No assumptions. Zuko kept the mantra looping in his head throughout the day. He sat at his desk and pretended to pay attention: no assumptions. He walked between classes: no assumptions. The bell sung at the end of last period: no assumptions. Sokka was walking towards him through the swarm of backpacks, a friendly smile lighting his face…_ _ _

___“Look,” Zuko said the moment he was within earshot. “I don’t know if you have community service hours you have to make up or something, but you can forget it. I don’t want anyone's pity.”_ _ _

___Sokka tilted his head to the side. “You’re the most insecure person I’ve ever met.”_ _ _

___Zuko’s face ignited in red, whether it was with anger or embarrassment he didn’t know. “That’s not true! I’m as proud as ever!”_ _ _

___Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Then why’d you assume I only wanted to hang with you out of pity? Proud people don’t think like that.”_ _ _

___Zuko clenched his fists. If he could get through this evening without giving Sokka third degree burns, he would be proud of himself._ _ _

___“Where are we going?” Zuko growled. Sokka beamed and started down the hallway, gesturing for Zuko to follow._ _ _

___“We usually switch off between houses. Today, I think we’re gonna head back to Katara and mine.”_ _ _

___“Okay.”_ _ _

___Appa was in the barn where they had left him. Aang, Katara, and Toph were already waiting on his back. They greeted Zuko awkwardly._ _ _

___“To yours?” Aang asked Katara over his shoulder. She nodded. Aang shook the Appa’s reins and said “Yip yip!”_ _ _

___Zuko fought the urge to glower visibly. It would have been very useful on Saturday to know that Appa responded to “yip yip.” He had remembered Aang shouting something at Appa when he flew them to the party, but he couldn’t remember exactly what it was. All he had remembered was it was two small words that started with Y. He was on the bison’s head shouting ridiculous things like “yum yum! yee yee! yeah yeah!” for almost five minutes before guessing it right._ _ _

___“Whatcha thinking about?” Sokka’s ponytail drifted in the breeze. He was looking right at Zuko. His eyes looked particularly bright up here in the sky, with an empty canvas of blue as a backdrop._ _ _

___Zuko looked away. “Nothing.”_ _ _

___When Appa landed in the driveway of a small blue house with white painted shutters, Zuko’s heart picked up. He had spent so long looking at Sokka and his group as the epitome of happiness. He always imagined that when they went home, they were greeted with an ensemble of utensils that danced and sang like a Disney movie. He was about to find out what it was really like. The realization kept him glued to Appa’s saddle longer than everyone else._ _ _

___It was Sokka who called him down. “You comin’?” Zuko nodded and scooted off the bison._ _ _

___Upon walking through the front door, Zuko found that despite the fact that there weren’t utensils dancing and singing, it was still a pretty cute house. The decor had a blue color scheme, though it wasn’t a strict commitment. There were greens and grays and purples and even yellows scattered throughout. The refrigerator had drawings tacked with magnets on both doors. Framed pictures of Sokka and Katara dappled the walls. It was all so docile. It made Zuko feel warm and safe and the opposite of what his father's house made him feel._ _ _

___Toph flopped on a blue couch and put a green pillow over her head. “I’m gonna take a nap, see you guys in an hour or two.”_ _ _

___“I’m gonna go work on homework.” Katara looked at Aang. “You wanna join?”_ _ _

___Aang brightened. “Sure! Can we do it outside? With Appa?”_ _ _

___“I don’t see why not.”_ _ _

___They left the way they had come, leaving Zuko and Sokka alone with an already snoring Toph._ _ _

___Sokka crossed his arms and smirked. “What nerds.”_ _ _

___Zuko looked at him. He knew for a fact that Sokka got good grades. Great grades, actually. He was one of the top students in their class. “Do you not do homework?”_ _ _

___Sokka’s smirk withered to a shy grin. “I already finished it. Come’on.” Sokka led Zuko up a staircase tucked away in the corner. They walked down a hall and stopped in front of a wooden door. Sokka took the handle and whisked it open. “Welcome to the most important room in the house: my room!”_ _ _

___Zuko stepped inside and looked around. It wasn’t as messy as most teenage boys kept their living spaces, but it was a far cry from clean. The bed was unmade, the pillow was pushed towards and center of the comforter, the shudders were half closed and the desk definitely didn’t have an organizational system. But that wasn’t unexpected. What drew Zuko’s attention most was the framed object above Sokka’s bed. It looked sort of like a sharp L._ _ _

___“That’s a boomerang,” Sokka said, noticing Zuko’s stare. “It was used by a warrior from the Southen Water Tribe. Isn’t that cool?”_ _ _

___“Why do you have it?”_ _ _

___“It’s a family artifact, passed down through generations and all that. I thought it was cooler than Katara did, so Dad gave it to me. Katara got a necklace.”_ _ _

___“Oh.”_ _ _

___“Yeah.” Sokka kicked at the floor. “You play video games?”_ _ _

___“No.”_ _ _

___Sokka moved to his desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out two controllers and a stack of games. “Pick a game, any game.”_ _ _

___“I just said I don’t play video games.”_ _ _

___“That’s alright. Either you’ll impress me by learning quickly, or I’ll get to kick your ass. It’s a win win.”_ _ _

___Zuko picked the top game in the stack. This couldn’t be too hard. He had never played a video game before, but his competitive nature and spite would surely be enough to beat Sokka._ _ _

___It wasn’t. Sokka pummeled him in a wrestling game, drove circles around him in a racing game, and obliterated all three of his lives with one strike in a combat game._ _ _

___Zuko groaned when Sokka ejected the combat game’s disk and reached for another. “Is three hundred victories not enough for you?”_ _ _

___“No amount of victories are enough for me.” There was laughter behind Sokka’s voice. “One more. You’ll like this one.”_ _ _

___“You said that last time.”_ _ _

___“It’s a team game. We work together.” He injected the disk. “Just try it.”_ _ _

___The game was called The Boiling Rock. It started with a menu of characters. Sokka picked The Fearsome Warrior. Zuko picked The Banished Traidor._ _ _

___“Interesting character choice.” Sokka was watching Zuko very carefully. He shrugged._ _ _

___“I liked the outfit.”_ _ _

___The game's objective was to break their friends out of a prison. They got to pick two special abilities for their characters. Sokka picked agility and sword fighting. Zuko picked strength and firebending._ _ _

___“Very creative,” Sokka teased_ _ _

___“At least I’m not daring to dream.”_ _ _

___“Hey!”_ _ _

___“Can you sword fight?”_ _ _

___“...No, but I am very agile!”_ _ _

___“Mm-hmm.”_ _ _

___The game was actually fun. They had to fight guards and go undercover and befriend the prisoners. It sort of felt like they were actually at the prison. They talked like they were there, yelling when things got intense and whispering when they were supposed to be sneaking around. Katara’s knock was a harsh pull back to the real world._ _ _

___“You guys have been in here for hours, do you want some dinner?”_ _ _

___Zuko jolted. The sliver of visible window was black beneath the shudders. It hadn’t felt like they'd been playing as long as they had. It had barely felt like half an hour._ _ _

___“No wonder my father never let me play these things.” Zuko set his controller down. “They waste time.”_ _ _

___“Hey, if you’re having fun, it’s not a waste of time.” Sokka saved the game and smiled sideways at Zuko. “We’ll finish tomorrow. Let’s eat.”_ _ _

___Zuko sat between Sokka and Toph at a small round table in the kitchen. They wolfed down pizza and talked. Zuko found it hard to keep up, they were all so lively and excited. They laughed a lot. Zuko caught himself almost laughing a few times as well. They were funny._ _ _

___Sokka was the funniest._ _ _

___Zuko’s alarm didn’t wake him the next morning. He had been too busy thinking to sleep. He maintained this deep state of thought as he got dressed and brushed his teeth and was escorted by Ozai’s staff member to the mansion out the front door with Azula at his side._ _ _

___Zuko was hoping that Azula would ask why he hadn’t sat with them at lunch yesterday, and why he didn’t pass through the house until late. He actually wanted to tell Azula about the lunch and the video games and Sokka’s sort of messy room and his sort of funny jokes. He wanted to know what she thought of all this. But she didn’t speak to him. She didn’t even look at her phone like she usually did in the mornings. She just stared out the window, looking almost as lost in thought as he was._ _ _

___At lunchtime, Zuko started heading down to the barn without really thinking. He paused in the doorway, realizing he hadn’t been formally invited. He was about to turn around and walk back to the cafeteria when a hand was placed on his shoulder._ _ _

___“Whatcha doing? I told you, it’s not a litter box. Come’on.”_ _ _

___Sokka led Zuko inside, a casual hand on his shoulder the whole time. Zuko couldn’t explain why it made his stomach flutter._ _ _

___After school, they went to Toph’s. Her game set was much bigger than Sokka’s. Everyone started out scattered, but as the hours passed, they had all gathered around the huge screen. The night ended with everyone yelling different instructions._ _ _

___“Punch the warden!”_ _ _

___“Scale the wall!”_ _ _

___“You have to go undercover again!”_ _ _

___“Sokka, you’re on the wrong level, the courtyard is one floor down!”_ _ _

___“Zuko, stop talking to that guard! He’s getting suspicious!”_ _ _

___Zuko didn’t call the car that he told everyone was an Uber but was actually Ozai’s staff member until they had beaten the game. He walked through his father’s doors half past eleven, and didn’t get back to the Jasmine Dragon until midnight. Uncle was sitting at the head of one of the rectangular tables. A candle barely lit his concerned features._ _ _

___“I tried to call you. You’ve been gone for hours, I was worried.”_ _ _

___“Sorry.”_ _ _

___“Is everything alright?”_ _ _

___“Everything’s fine. I was just hanging out with… people.”_ _ _

___“Ah.” Uncle raised a brow. “Good, good. Friendship is an essential joy of life.”_ _ _

___“They aren’t my friends,” Zuko snapped. But maybe they were. Or maybe they could be._ _ _

___Zuko fell asleep with a funny lightness in his chest._ _ _

___On Wednesday, Zuko had lunch in the barn again. He was getting a little more comfortable with the gang. He even participated in the conversation twice, which was double as many times as he had during yesterday’s lunch. It was nice. But he didn’t go back to one of their houses after school. He couldn’t._ _ _

___He had his first meeting with Jet._ _ _

___ _

___“This is a terrible plan.”_ _ _

___“Shh!”_ _ _

___“This would look less creepy if we were flying normally.”_ _ _

___“Less talking, more bending!” Sokka squinted against the mist, bent into a cloud shape around Appa by Katara and Aang. “There. That rectangular building, that’s the library. We’re still above him.”_ _ _

___“How do you know where he is?”_ _ _

___“He’s on the bus. We’re following bus route B.”_ _ _

___“How did you know which bus route Zuko is—-“_ _ _

___“Less talking, more bending!” Sokka looked at his map and then looked forward. “That taller shape in the distance is the next stop. Aang, when we’re next to it you need to head back out and see who gets off.”_ _ _

___Aang used his glider to exit the cloud as Appa flew past the gray silhouette. He returned a minute later. “Just some school girls and an old man.”_ _ _

___“Ok, keep forward.”_ _ _

___It continued like that for almost twenty minutes. Sokka was getting concerned they had somehow missed Zuko until about five stops down the line. Aang flew back in and landed with vigor._ _ _

___“He got off!”_ _ _

___“Alright!” Sokka’s heart was pounding. He looked at the map. They were sandwiched between a pharmacy and a grocery store. He had circled the pharmacy’s parking lot in red ink. The key he had drawn in the corner reminded that rink circles meant large enough to fit Appa. Aang could station him there while the rest of the group followed Zuko from a safe and hidden distance._ _ _

___The execution turned out to be easier than that. Toph was able to feel that Zuko had walked directly into the Pharmacy’s parking lot and gotten into the passenger seat of a car parked in the corner. Aang flew overhead and reported that the car didn’t drive away, it just stayed there with the engine running. They landed Appa in the opposite corner._ _ _

___Sokka slid down Appa’s tail. “Keep close to me,” he whispered._ _ _

___Katara rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a heist, Sokka.”_ _ _

___“Shh!”_ _ _

___Sokka led them in a weaving motion around the other cars. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he was stalling. This part of the plan was the most simple on paper, being the part where he proved that Zuko was the Blue Spirit. But now that he was here, in the corner of some sketchy parking lot just like he had pictured, he had no idea what to do. All he knew was that he had run out of things to weave around. They stood behind the car, heat touching their faces from the exhaust pipe. Sokka looked over his shoulder. Everyone was staring at him._ _ _

___With a deep breath, Sokka marched up to the car and knocked on the passenger’s window._ _ _

___The window was tinted, but Sokka could make out Zuko’s face. There was a pause before the door flung open._ _ _

___“What are you doing here!?” Zuko’s tone was dark and angry. The driver’s door opened too, and oh, this was both so much better and worse than Sokka could have planned._ _ _

___“Jet.” Katara’s voice was an icy growl. Jet looked like he wanted to slip back into the car and drive away. Instead, he looked at Zuko._ _ _

___“What’s going on?”_ _ _

___“I don’t know.”_ _ _

___“You two know each other?” Aang gestured from Zuko to Jet with his staff._ _ _

___“No!” Zuko’s tone was edging in panic. “This is… Our… First time meeting.”_ _ _

___Toph spit. “I can tell you’re lying.”_ _ _

___“Everyone can tell he’s lying.” Sokka pointed at Zuko, extending his whole arm for the dramatic flair. “He’s the Blue Spirit!”_ _ _

___Zuko’s eyes grew wide. “What? No! Don’t be ridiculous, of course I’m not!”_ _ _

___Everyone looked at Toph. She tilted her head before nodding. “Yup, he’s lying.”_ _ _

___Katara rounded on Jet, her eyes narrowed and blazing like a blue forest fire. “What sort of psychotic mind game did you pull this time?”_ _ _

___Jet held his hands up, taking a step back. “I didn’t do anything!”_ _ _

___“You expect me to believe that? After all you’ve done?”_ _ _

___“It was Zuko’s idea!”_ _ _

___“How stupid do you think we—“_ _ _

___“He’s telling the truth.” Zuko spoke with his chin down. His voice was low and detached. “I approached Jet. I needed help with freeing the bison. He wanted something in return, so I came up with this.”_ _ _

___Aang looked at Toph. “Is he lying?”_ _ _

___She shook her head._ _ _

___The silence that fell was unbearable. Though Sokka loved being right, he couldn’t deny the part of him that had hoped he was wrong for once. His eyes found their way to Zuko’s scar. The risk he was taking with this, the danger he was putting himself in…_ _ _

___“What are you doing?” Sokka wanted it to come out rough or accusatory or even judgmental. It just sounded concerned. “Do you know what you’re risking?”_ _ _

___“Of course I do.” Zuko’s tone had a bite. He glared at Sokka. “But you don’t. Don’t act like you know what I go through, what it’s like. If this got out… Of course I know what I’m risking.”_ _ _

___“Then why?”_ _ _

___Zuko opened his mouth and closed it. He cleared his throat. “I needed help with freeing the bison.”_ _ _

___A second unbearable silence fell, which Jet of all people decided to break. “Well, this meeting has been informative, despite the interruptions.” His glare fell to Sokka for a few seconds. He looked back at Zuko. ”Same time next week?” Zuko nodded grimly. Sokka barely registered Jet getting in his car and driving away. His eyes remained on Zuko. Everyone’s eyes remained on Zuko._ _ _

___Aang rippled the stillness by walking towards him. He stood in front of Zuko and stared. He started and stared, and then he threw his arms around his shoulders._ _ _

___“Thank you, Zuko.” Aang’s voice broke. Tears rivered down both of his cheeks. “You saved him. You saved Appa.”_ _ _

___Zuko didn’t hug Aang back. He just stood there, arms at his side, eyes wide, two patches of red gathered in his cheeks. When Aang released Zuko, he kept his hands on his shoulders._ _ _

___“I want to help you.”_ _ _

___Zuko took a step back. “What?”_ _ _

___“You became the Blue Spirit for me. It’s only right that I help you with it.”_ _ _

___“You can’t.”_ _ _

___“Sure I can!”_ _ _

___“We all can,” Toph chimed in. “We can help keep your identity a secret.”_ _ _

___“And we can keep Jet in line,” Katara added. “He breaks one rule of the agreement, you come to me.”_ _ _

___“I think this whole Blue Spirit thing is a terrible idea.” Sokka stepped forwards, ignoring the glare his sister cast in his direction. “But it’s a less terrible idea if you have help.”_ _ _

___“Forget it,” Zuko snarled. “I don’t need help.”_ _ _

___Sokka shook his head. “We aren’t asking. If you’re doing this, it’s not going to be alone.”_ _ _

___Zuko looked between all of them, eyes lingering on Sokka a little longer than the rest. “If you guys are going to help me,” he started slowly, “you should know that I don’t live at home anymore. I’m staying at the Jasmine Dragon with my uncle. You can’t tell anyone, it’s a secret from the press.”_ _ _

___“Oh.” A smile found its way to Sokka’s lips. Something like relief pressed itself against his chest. “That’s… Good.”_ _ _

___Zuko started telling them all about the agreement he had made with his father. He told them about the early mornings and late nights, the rides there and back from school. Sokka’s mind was not loyal to the conversation. There was a question whirring through his gears, one that wouldn’t leave him alone when Zuko politely departed to catch the next bus home._ _ _

___“I’m surprised you haven’t started gloating yet,” Katara remarked once Zuko was out of earshot. Sokka watched his back as he made his way across the parking lot._ _ _

___“I’m gonna walk him to the bus,” Sokka stated, ignoring the looks exchanged between Aang and Katara._ _ _

___Sokka ran to catch up. By the time he was next to Zuko, he was already standing at the bus stop. The bus was visible just down the block, yielding to a crosswalk that was being occupied by a clump of slow-moving old men._ _ _

___“Why did you do it?” Sokka spoke between heavy breaths._ _ _

___Zuko looked startled. “What?”_ _ _

___“Are you an animal rights activist or something?”_ _ _

___“No.”_ _ _

___“Then what, do you have a secret crush on Aang?”_ _ _

___Zuko flushed bright red. “No!”_ _ _

___“Then I don’t get it! You did this huge, brave thing, you’re risking so much and you don’t even know Aang that well. Are you one of those avatar enthusiasts? Do you run the Instagram fan page!? We thought it was the kid who always foams at the mouth during pep rallies, but—“_ _ _

___“Sokka, stop.” The bus had traveled the short distance from the crosswalk to the stop. Zuko stepped closer to Sokka to let a woman and her daughter step through the opened doors first. He spoke in a low voice. “I didn’t do it for Aang. I… I did it for you.”_ _ _

___Zuko walked up to the bus and put one foot on the first step. Sokka grabbed his arm before he could get on. “Why?”_ _ _

___“Sokka!”_ _ _

___“Hey,” the bus driver snapped, “we have a schedule to keep.”_ _ _

___Zuko’s eyes were blazing embers. “Sokka, let me go.”_ _ _

___Sokka didn’t take his eyes off Zuko’s face. “Why?”_ _ _

___Zuko sighed. His voice was small, so small and that a bus even a notch louder would have swallowed it. “You were there for me. That day in the bathroom. I needed someone. And you were there.”_ _ _

___Zuko shook free of Sokka’s hold and stepped on. The doors swung closed and the bus took off._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!
> 
> Have a super long chapter that was hard to write because sm happened lol. But hey now Zuko's in the GAang!! We love to see it 
> 
> Your guys comments make my day, you have no idea! Thank you for supporting the fic and being you!! <33

**Author's Note:**

> Suuup. 
> 
> Lemme know what y'all think of this, I was sorta just tossing the idea around and thought it sounded cool so I decided to write it out lmao. I think we can all agree that ATLA is one of, if not the best show of all time.


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